Sticky Notes
by tiki-writes
Summary: Kevin is so caught up in schoolwork, and he is slowly starting to slip out of reality...Clyde asks for help from him, and little does he know that he is helping Kevin in his own way. Stolovan. Heidi plays a major role in here too
1. Chapter 1

_Author's Notes: Um, this is only the second fanfiction I've ever worked on, and the first one I'm doing by myself. I don't have much of a plot yet, but I hope it becomes a popular Stolovan fic on here, since I see that there aren't many. Please, PLEASE review! I think there might be a few typos in here, too. But please: read and review!_

**CHAPTER 1**

This school year really hasn't been working for me so far. I just turned seventeen last month, and well, you'd think that be great and exciting, but for me, it really wasn't. All the fun years are starting to pass. I can't just lounge around and play video games anymore; pre-SATs and college-course tests are creeping up my back. There's no more cruising around town and stopping for a bite to eat; if I'm driving my car anywhere, it's to school, the library, or a friend's house to study. It's messing up my whole life schedule. That includes sleep.

I rolled over and pulled my blanket tightly over my shoulders and waited in the darkness of my cold room as I heard my mom's soft steps padding up the stairs and into my room. I saw soft yellow light flood into my room as my mom peered into my room, making sure I was fast asleep in bed. There was a good five seconds of this before the light began to diminish and she left, leaving me in my room.

I shut my eyes and let out a quick, exasperated breath. Quickly but silently, I tossed my blanket off of me and rolled off my bed, and tip-toed over to my computer. I wiggled the mouse and the monitor lit up, stinging my already tired eyes. I sat down in my chair and scooted closer to the screen, using my free hand to slap the tiredness out of my face.

Eight paragraphs to go. That's all you have to do. My eyes darted to the bottom corner of my screen, where the clock read 11:47. I was tired as hell. But this essay needed to be finished by tomorrow . . .either that, or take a big fat F for the quarter. Nuh-uh; I don't think so.

I opened up Word and searched for my document. I can't believe how tired school can make you. I miss those days when staying up until midnight couldn't faze you, even without soda and pixy stix. When you'd stay up all night playing video games or watching movies, or doing crap on the computer. That's the thing I probably miss the most right now. Not that I had much to begin with, but, you know.

Fucking english report shit. Oh yeah. That's what I named it. I opened it up and almost got an instant headache from just glancing at all the words I had typed over the past week and a half. The word count read 4,785. Jesus Christ.

I leaned my head forward and pressed my fingertips into my temples for a second before I began to finish up my report. At first I was self-conscious about the loud pok-pok-poking that my fingers were making on the keyboard, and then realized that it was probably too soft of a sound for anyone outside my room to hear. I sighed and shook my head.

In mid-sentence, a small white bubble appeared at the bottom of my screen with a little chime. It was Clyde sending me a message on Skype. I ignored it at first and continued to type, but that bubble was simply followed by another and another and another, until there were continuous bubbles popping up in the corner of my screen. I bit down on my tongue fiercely to prevent me from making noises of frustration.

Before I even read the messages he sent me, I typed furiously into the chat box: _WHAAAATTT?_

There was a split-second's wait until his reply appeared.

_Hey r u still up?_

I couldn't help it. I groaned out loud and shoved my fingers into my hair, resting my forehead in my palm. I looked up at the screen with weary eyes and typed in my response with one finger.

_No, I'm sleeping._

Bi-ding!

_Oh. Sorry bro. Sweet dreams!_

I sighed. I should just tell him what an idiot he is. _Save it,_ I thought to myself. _You're just cranky and he's getting onto your nerves easily_. I opened up a new sticky note instead and typed _tell Clyde what a fucking idiot he is_. I minimized it and went back to typing.

So, literature and the study of language are important to each individual subject. Right. Pok-pok-pok, got it down. But how does it affect us, individually? If none of us had the right knowledge, in the sense of—

Bi-ding!

God damn. There goes my train of thought.

_ Oh, thats so not cool i see what u did there._

_No shit, Sherlock_. I grumbled as I impatiently typed a response.

_Yeah ok whatever. What do you want?_

Bi-ding! Man, I should really turn that off. I reached for the buttons on the side of my monitor and did just that.

_I need help with the math homework._

_ We're in different math classes!_

_ But i cant do it!_

_ Then figure it out!_

There was no immediate response. I smirked smugly as I minimized the chat room and went back to typing. I was about to start tapping away on the keys when that goddam bubble popped up at the bottom of my screen. I considered ignoring it, but then remembered what happened when I first tried doing that. The dreaded chat room filled my screen. At this rate, I was never going to finish my report.

_Keviiiiiiin please!_

I shut my eyes. I could just see him sitting at his laptop, pouting after he attempted the problem once more. And of course he'd resort to me. Is that what you get for being Asian?

_Fine. What's the problem._

I couldn't believe my eyes. We were in the eleventh grade, and he was having trouble with a geometry problem. And an easy one at that. It didn't even involve numbers, really; it was just conjectures and inductive reasoning.

_Clyde. The answer is 632 eggs. The argument is not valid, and it is deductive reasoning. I don't think you're going to make it through high school._

He didn't seem to take notice of the cruel remark in my reply.

_Ok thanks kevin i knew i could count on you. Im going to bed now tho_

_ Alright. Bye._

I closed my Skype window. I swear to god, if that little bubble pops up again tonight, I'm going to ram my fist through my computer. And that's tough for me to say. I really love my computer.

Seven and a half paragraphs. My computer told me it was nearing midnight. I dug my nails into my scalp, glaring at my essay. The contrast of the tiny black letters on the bright white background was making my eyes even more tired than I could stand.

I blew a lock of black hair out of my eyes in frustration. I straightened my back in my chair and rolled my knuckles. I shut my eyes for a quick second, and then opened them in a flash. Only seven and a half paragraphs. I had all night if I needed it.

* * *

><p>My alarm clock buzzed in an annoying manner in my ears as I woke up. I rolled over and found the red numbers glaring right back at me, with the same amount of zeal I probably had. I slammed my fist down on the snooze button. Fuck six-thirty; I'll be bad and wake up at six-thirty-five.<p>

I leaned against the tiled wall in my shower, still half asleep. I had finally crawled into bed at a miserable 1:23. Writing seven and a half paragraphs on some shit you don't even care about when you're tired as fuck can take longer than you'd think. I doubted that the portion I had written even sounded legit.

I cupped my hands and filled them with the hot water that poured down like heavenly rain. I splashed over my face, in a shrewd attempt to get a grip and wake myself up. I don't think it worked. I stumbled out of the shower ten minutes later than I usually do.

I was never a morning person. I still skip breakfast on most days, despite what my mom says about full nutrition for the day. As long as I can survive another day of school, I don't need any goddam nutrition. Still, I skimmed the cupboard for anything that looked appealing, and then shut it with a sigh. Yeah, cereal isn't really my thing. Oatmeal takes too long, and I don't know how to cook anything. I leaned against the counter and found myself doing something I don't really remember doing before. The sun was about ready to pop up over the edge of the sky, and I found myself enthralled by the wide spectrum of colors.

The sky was still a bright crisp blue, and thin, wispy white clouds laced through it like ribbon. Right above the horizon is where reds and pinks and yellows and oranges shot through the sky in bright beams. The light filtered through the trees, reflecting off of the snow and ice, and eventually found its way into the kitchen and onto my shirt. Every now and then a pair of crows flitted through the sky, creating a strange effect that I couldn't quite put my finger on. It made time seem to slow, and I got a warm feeling in my chest. Maybe I was thinking of the holiday season coming up. Maybe I was just peaceful.

I glanced at the clock on the face of the microwave. I could rush to get ready in ten minutes and walk to school, or I could spend some time in the sunroom, watching the sunrise and feeling this deep peacefulness that I was really starting to like, and drive myself to school.

I looked back at the color-filled sky. I tapped my fingers on the edge of the counter, trying to make up my mind. I blinked a couple times in the bright morning light, and then dashed upstairs to get ready.

In my room, I stapled the three pages—front and back—of my completed report, still warm from the printer, and placed them safely in my binder. I'd better get an A on that. I tucked my binder away in my backpack and slung it over my shoulder, and then jogged downstairs and started putting my shoes on.

My mom noticed me with my car keys in hand, and then glanced at the nearest clock. She looked at me, one eyebrow raised suspiciously.

"Why are you leaving so early?" she asked.

"I need to drive slowly, 'cause of the ice, y'know?" I told her, not once glancing up to look at her. I tugged at my shoelaces. I had seen that question coming. "And I have to pick up a friend."

My mom nodded. "Alright; drive safe." As I stood up, she gave me a hug, and then I was out the door. My mom was pretty oblivious to my lies; I guess she thought I was such a good child that I would never do it. She'd be surprised to see how many times she'd been wrong. I think she's kind of oblivious to a lot of things concerning me. Don't take that the wrong way: she loves me and all, but sometimes I think her image of me is blocked by something that isn't clear, but you can still kind of see through it. Opaque, there we go. Me as a young child, maybe. I think she refuses to let that image go, so that's what she sees me as. A young child. It gets really annoying sometimes.

I slid into my car and turned the keys, and immediately turned on the heated seating. My car was nothing special, just my dad's old Buick. I really liked the light-up dash and leather seats, though. I planted my own Stormtrooper bobble-head up on the dash, and a small Lego Darth Vader dangled from the rearview mirror. There was a half-full metal Star Wars thermos in the cup holder, and a folded up fleece blanket in the trunk to match. Don't judge me.

I rolled out of the driveway and prayed that my mom wasn't watching me from the house. I don't know why she would be, but you never know. Y'know? Instead of taking a left, towards the school, I turned to the right. Away from the houses, off to Stark's Pond.

I cruised at a considerably slower speed as I got farther away from the neighborhood. The roads weren't even that icy, like I thought they would be. As I got closer to Stark's Pond, deeper into the country side, the drive become more scenic. Trees were covered in glistening white snow, the edges glowing orange from the morning light. The snow on the ground was untouched, and I even got a tiny bit sad thinking about people stepping all over it, leaving their ugly footprints. It was better knowing that I was all by myself, and I smiled as I felt that peaceful feeling start to set in. It was definitely a new feeling, and I wanted to get used to feeling it more.

I pulled into the grassy lot at Stark's Pond and cut the engine. For a while, I simply sat back in my seat, admiring the beautiful sky from behind the foggy windshield. Every now and then, I watched a small rabbit that had turned its fur white for the season nibble on dead, frozen grass. I wish I had carrots. I would've tossed him a few.

I never really sat back and thought about how stressed I might be. I've been sitting in a pile of schoolwork that was probably up to my neck by now, and it wasn't even second semester yet. The idea of college had been wrapped around my head so many times that I think it'll cave in at any given moment, and all the preparation tests haven't been helping, either. My social life has gone completely downhill—I guess it was never uphill to begin with, but that's not the point—and I haven't enjoyed any of my favorite past-time activities in what seemed like forever. I wouldn't be surprised to find out that my PS3 had overheated from sheer loneliness.

I sighed. I've been doing a lot of that, too—sighing. I guess I was pretty stressed out.

I was about to check my watch for the time, when my phone buzzed with the arrival of a new message. From Clyde. Of course. It was seven thirteen, by the way.

_Hey dude where are you?_

Funny if you think about it. He can spell everything out and have proper capitalization and punctuation in a text, but not when he has a full keyboard under his nose. I don't get some people.

I tapped my phone rapidly against my thigh, wondering if I should text back. Instead of making up my mind, I got out of my car (I forgot about that rabbit; the sudden movement sent it bounding into the bramble) and stepped out into the cold, brisk air. I made my way down to the pond, not quite frozen over with ice, and blinked as the cold stung my eyes. I almost stopped halfway there, realizing that I myself was leaving ugly footprints that I had been loathing a minute ago in the clean snow. But I kept going, telling myself that nothing could be done about it, and if I was going to leave footprints in the snow, I might as well go where I had intended to go.

I stopped when I came to the edge of the pond, the waves slowly curling in, with a thin sheet of ice bobbing on top. My breath rolled out in smoky swells, curling under my nose before it evaporated in the thin atmosphere. The sun had risen halfway over the horizon now, and although I thought it impossible, the sky was ablaze with even more color than before. It was all just so . . . awesome.

My phone began to buzz. It didn't stop. I pulled it out before my ringtone came on and disturbed the peace. Okay, Clyde could text me, but not call me. Glad to see he cared and all, but not now. I rejected it, and slid my phone open, deciding to text him to get him off my back.

_I'm still at home, I told him._

_You driving to school?_

_Yeah._

_Oh, okay. I just didn't see you walking, so I kinda freaked out. Alright, see ya at school._

_Okay, see ya._

I shoved my phone back into my pocket. It actually was kind of nice to know he cared, and it made me feel better about myself after what happened late last night on the computer. I was still annoyed with him I guess, but not enough to snap at him through a _text._

I really wanted to sit down. But I also didn't want to get my ass wet from melted snow. I stayed standing.

I scanned the view I had, pretending to take a really wide panoramic picture through my eyes. It was really cool, and I bet if I submitted that picture to the Art Fest, I'd win 1st place.

Everything was so pristine. You didn't have to alter a single thing to make it perfect. I even saw icicles hanging off of dead maple leaves that hadn't fallen off their branches yet. At first I thought that light snow would make the scene even _more_ perfect, but then tossed that aside. It was sunny, and snow would make the sky gray and ruin the epic effects of the sunbeams.

Maybe this is what I was missing. A little bit of order, to make my life seem pristine. Right now it was so hectic and scrambled and just plain _messed up_ that nothing was perfect. There wasn't one small, perfect, pristine little thing in my daily routine that I had to look forward to. Sure, I played video games and hung out with friends whenever I got the chance, but those things didn't give me this fulfilling feeling of peace like this did. It's amazing; just _looking_ at a landscape can make you feel like this. I looked up into the sky where it was blue, and saw a faint sliver of the moon, with a few fading white dots that I knew to be stars. Even that was pretty. Maybe I should look at the sky more often.

By this time I could no longer feel my nose and earlobes, and my toes were really starting to hurt. I threw my head back, glancing at my car, then back to the lake. It was so pretty; I really didn't want to leave. But I had to, sometime soon. I reluctantly spun around on my heels and trudged back to my dingy old Buick. I quickly opened the door and slid right in.

I turned on the engine and started the heated seats again. I looked up at Darth, who greeted me with no facial expression. I grinned and flicked him with my two fingers, sending him swinging from his restricted length of string he dangled from my mirror by. I punched a button that turned on the radio, and waded through a lot of pop stations and death metal and jazz. I found one playing Impossible, by Anberlin.

I checked my watch. Seven twenty-one. I had twenty-four minutes before school started. I took one more long gaze towards the sunrise before closing my eyes and letting my shoulders go loose. The lack of sleep I had gotten was catching up to me.

* * *

><p>I was going almost double the speed limit. I had probably run over a couple wild buffalos without realizing it.<p>

"Shit, shit . . . Shit!" I kept muttering. I had slept in much later than I had intended. I woke up to my phone buzzing in my back pocket; Clyde was calling me.

"Hnghh," I said, holding up the wrong end of the phone to my ear. I clumsily flipped it around. "Clyde? What?"

"Dude, where the hell are you? Are you ditching or something?" he asked frantically.

"Huh? What time is it?" I asked, licking my lips. My mouth had fallen open, and was bone-dry. I blinked repeatedly, and wiped my sleeve across the windshield, which had gotten to the point of being so steamy that you couldn't see through it. The sun had almost risen above the tree line. No way.

"What time—dude! Where are you? Are you okay? You're never the one who's asking the time!" I could hear panic rising in his voice. He was probably only worried because he wouldn't be able to get the answers in history if I didn't show. But he had a point. As my senses were slowly coming back, I snapped my wrist up and checked my watch. It was past eight fifteen. I had slept for almost an hour.

"Shit . . . Okay dude, I'm on my way," I told him. I hung up before he could reply, and shifted into reverse, and backed outta that parking lot faster than that bunny had disappeared into the bushes.

"Shit . . . Shit!" I said, shaking my head. I actually laughed a little, too. This was crazy. How could I let myself sleep for a whole hour? First of all, how could I let myself fall asleep in my car, with the heater on, the radio playing, and a beautiful, warm, orange sunrise right before my eyes? On a _school day_? Gosh, maybe I really _shouldn't_ look at the sky more.

I've been having a really strange morning. I'm really confused. I like this peaceful feeling; I really do. But I don't think staring at sunrises is the way I should go for it. I should do something that . . . I can handle. I guess I can't handle sunrises.

But see, the thing is I don't recall ever having this wonderful feeling before. I don't know other ways I can reach it. If I knew I could feel this way by doing a certain hobby or something like that, then I would definitely clear out time for it. Even with my busy schedule and all that. I'd find a way to make it happen. So this is my dilemma. I know what I'm willing to sacrifice to get this feeling—but I don't know how to get the actual feeling. Unless I want to stare at sunrises every morning. Which is fine, I guess, but. . . I should find other ways; y'know?

I hit a speed bump in the road, and immediately hit the brakes. _We're in the city limits now_, I reminded myself, continuing at half the speed I had just been going. I sighed. Let's just get to school alive today.

I sat down roughly in my seat, near the back of the class. Clyde kept his eyes glued to me for the rest of the period. I managed to ignore it most of the time and focus on the lesson on Medieval Europe, but I still felt that creepy sensation on the back of your neck that you get when you _know_ someone is watching you. I kind of get that a lot from Clyde.

When the bell rang, I tried to escape from the classroom as quickly as I could so I could avoid talking to Clyde, but the teacher, Ms. Molitor, pulled me aside. I stood meekly by her desk as she waited for the classroom to empty. My toes involuntarily curled inward when I saw Clyde linger outside the door, waiting for me to emerge.

"Here, Kevin, you didn't get the assignment paper," she said in her soft voice, handing me a double-sided paper, filled with questions. A study guide for a test. Great. Clyde would be all over me for this one. "That's due next Tuesday, alright?"

"Sure thing," I mumbled, trying to quickly place it in my binder without shoving it in. I kind of failed. She spoke to me again as I started to leave the room, making me stop in my tracks and turn around. Good, keep it up, Mrs. M. Maybe Clyde will be late and run off to his next class before he got a chance to talk to me.

"Kevin," she began, in a questioning tone that I didn't like all of the sudden. "How come you were thirty minutes late to class today? I got no note or call from a parent . . ."

I fingered the hem of my jacket rather uneasily. What do I say? I fell asleep watching the sunrise at Stark's Pond? Well, sometimes strange answers are better left unexplained. And she was a woman; maybe she did those kinds of things sometimes, so she would understand.

"I, uh, kind of . . . had an accident," I mumbled rather sheepishly. I hope her mind wasn't dirty like mine, because I was thinking of a million different little "accidents" that could've happened to me before class. I blinked before they could get the better of me.

She didn't seem to be thinking that way. "Alright; just try not to let it happen again. You're a good student Kevin, so I'll let this one slide. But next time, watch out," she warned with a nice smile. I smiled back and then ducked out of the classroom.

A strong arm immediately looped around my shoulders, weighing me down and making me slouch. I grimaced as he started pulling me away. My legs were a little longer than his and he got me started on awkward footing, so our walking was uncoordinated. It was very uncomfortable.

"Kev, where were you this morning? You missed like, half the lesson!" he exclaimed, grinning like it was Christmas.

"Uh, Stark's Pond," I said truthfully, although reluctantly. I felt like I was being suffocated in a cloud of Axe—I tried not to gag on air. I felt his hazel eyes land on me.

"Stark's Pond? What were you doing there?"

". . . Sleeping," I said, trying really hard not to look at him. His arm slid off my shoulders.

"Sleeping? Wha . . . are you serious?"

I nodded. "Yeah. I fell asleep in my car at Stark's Pond."

"What were you doing at Stark's Pond? That's like a ten-minute drive from my house!"

"I know," I said, wishing that not so much of his smell had rubbed off on me. It was irritating my nose. "I was, um, watching the sun come up."

He didn't say anything for a second; he just stared at me with his mouth open in a toothy smile. "You . . . went to Stark's Pond to watch the _sunrise_?"

I nodded. I didn't really want to add any more of my own words to the conversation. I felt stupid enough as it was.

He thumped me good-naturedly on the back. I hate to admit that it kind of hurt. "Awh, that's so cute, man! You watched the sunrise!"

I grumbled and made a face. Was his purpose in my life to make me look stupid? Well, maybe not. He definitely had his fair-share of dumb moments. In fact, it was such a fair-share that it would take me a really long time to go over and count them all.

So that made me feel even worse. I'm being made stupid-looking by someone way more stupid than me. Cool.

"Shut up Clyde," I muttered, stepping away from him. "It was nice."

He chuckled. "I'll take your word for it," he said, smiling. "See you at lunch."

I didn't say anything. I turned down the hallway and tried to forget about him for the rest of the day.

It didn't work so great. At lunch he came to our table, bubbling over with excitement, with important news. The school had set a date for the Holiday Dance, and apparently, all of us needed to find dates before they were taken.

I had lost my appetite, and my lunch had pretty much been ruined. Clyde "cleaned up" my lunch for me.


	2. Chapter 2

Author's notes: Sorry, this chapter kinda gets off subject with the last one. The only reason this one is out so quickly is because it was done when I posted chapter 1. So, I still have to write chapter 3, and it'll take a while. Please, review!

**CHAPTER 2**

I tossed my backpack in front of me, wishing I had aimed for my bed before I threw it. It landed with a loud thump on the seemingly thin wooden floor. Whoops.

I pulled my chair out and sat myself down, and wiggled the mouse. I should really shut down my computer when I'm not here, or at least log off and set a password. Sometimes I'm paranoid and think my mom or dad will sneak into my room while I'm at school or something and go through all my pictures and history and see the inappropriate names of all my documents. But then I remember that they don't really know how to do that, and they have better things to do. Not like I have stuff to hide or anything, but . . .

I saw the sticky note I made, small and lonely by itself in the corner of my screen. Oh, I forgot to tell him. Clyde, I mean. I forgot to tell him that I thought he was a fucking idiot. Before I opened up any programs or anything, I considered adding to that box. I drummed my fingers lightly on top of the keys.

As soon as it came to mind, I hastily added, _and he's making me find a fucking date to the dance._ Then I opened up Google Chrome. Enough of that.

I really didn't like the whole date thing. Why'd we all have to scramble to find dates this year? Last year we didn't, and the year before, too. Now, I'd understand if it was homecoming or if we were in senior year, but . . . we're juniors and it's the _Holiday Dance_. And the date thing is all Clyde's idea. It's making me more and more peeved off with him.

Our "gang" has never been involved in much. Compared to Stan's group of friends, I guess. Clyde and Craig are the leaders of our group, like Stan and Kyle. Except we never get involved in the crazy shit that they do. Sometimes we get dragged in, and Tweek left us once to hang out with them, but besides that, we stay under the radar and out of the way. Stan is the star quarterback, Kyle and Cartman are in Debate Club, and Kenny is always on every girl's mind. Butters drifts in and out of their group. Honestly, they're a really popular bunch of guys.

Is that why Clyde is doing this? I think he's pretty sick of living in Stan's shadow-it's been Clyde's dream since like,_ forever_ to be Cows quarterback. And he's jealous that Stan's real good friends with Wendy. It drove him nuts when they were still dating, but even after they broke up, Clyde was jealous. And Craig was there when Clyde announced the plans. He looked like he didn't care much, or even that he _agreed_. I can't imagine why Craig would go with it. As far as I know, he's not jealous of any of those guys. In fact, I don't think he's jealous of anyone. Craig's really stuck-up and conceited sometimes. But, who knows? Maybe he is hiding jealousy behind those deep blue eyes of his. Or maybe he just didn't want to argue with Clyde, because we all know how suicidal _that _can make you feel.

I think we're doomed.

Or _I_ am, at least.

Let's see what I'm up against.

Token's black. That's cool. He can dance, and sing, and rap. He's good looking, he's smart, and he's nice, too. And he's _fucking rich_. If they held the dance at his house, I think the majority of people would get lost.

Craig is like, dark and mysterious, or whatever girls like to call him. He's got that, bad-ass, don't-fuck-with-me kind of aura about him. And he has blue eyes, which a lot of people like. I don't think he'd have a problem finding a date if he actually _tried_. He just doesn't want to get involved with other people, unless its his friends. Even then . . .

Tweek is a toughie. I see lots of girls looking at him and giggling in the hallways, but then later I find out that they were giggling about how adorable he is. Awkward for me to explain. He's always trembling and twitching, and he's scrappy and small. That coffee he's constantly drinking can't possibly be doing anything good for him. He's almost always standing behind someone; Craig when he's with us, and Kyle when he's with . . . them. I think he has an okay chance, if he can ask a girl out without spazzing and flipping out.

Clyde . . . has issues to work out if he wants to get a date. He used to be quite the charmer, back in late elementary and throughout middle school. Now that charm has moved over to Kenny, because girls value sex and naughtiness more than a couple hugs and a nice pair of shoes. I guess he's always been kinda chubby, but everyone tends to look over that when you're younger. I remember once, last year, Bebe called him fat to his face, and he spent days crying over it.

There's one of his biggest issues: he's a crier. About once a week, I'd say. It used to be every other day, but he finally grew out of that. I guess crying once a week still isn't an impressive feat, though. Even if he doesn't cry, he'll still get overly-upset about things, or whatever state of emotion you launch him into. If he toughens up and stops crying over every little thing that no other boy is known to cry about, then I think he can actually land himself a good, sturdy, permanent girlfriend.

Here's his second issue: he _is_ fat. I'm not saying like, Cartman fat, but he's still fatter than any of his friends. It's because of his love affair with tacos and chipotle. I told him once that if he planted the idea that girls are more important than tacos into his sad little brain, then he wouldn't be fat like he was. He just can't get it down, though. He eats that stuff almost everyday, I swear. But, besides his weight, he's not too harsh on the eyes. He has light brown hair and bright hazel eyes, and quite a cunning smile, I must say. To me, it gets annoying because I know he uses it when he wants something, like answers to stuff.

This is the last of his problems that I'm going to talk about, and it's the one that affects me the most. He is _so_ dumb. He's so dumb that it's not even funny. Especially to me, since I'm the one he's always mooching answers off of and stuff. Maybe girls consider it naive, or they think its cute, or _whatever_-but sometimes I want to fucking _stab him in the neck_ because that's how annoying it can get. In fact, sometimes I'd rather carry on a conversation with _Eric Cartman_ instead of Clyde. At least Cartman knows a lot about political and ethical stuff.

I sighed, leaning back in my chair. I closed my eyes and that somehow magnified the swaying feeling I felt in the tip of my fingers as my arms dangled inches from the floor.

That's who I'm up against. I don't think my chances of getting any kind of date are very good. I didn't even take Stan's gang into account. And I don't want a girl who's caught AIDS or herpes from Kenny. I hope that doesn't exclude a lot of people.

_Well, let's look on the bright side, Kevin._ I popped one eye open, and then the other. Maybe it would help a little if my room wasn't so dark. I got up and threw my curtains apart, letting in a lot more light than I had expected. The sky was gray with snow clouds, but it brightened up the room for sure. Inside, I wished that it was a red and gold sunrise, so i could just look at it and feel peaceful again. But it wasn't, so I walked over to the other side of the door and flipped on the light switch.

I looked around. I can't say it improved things, because my room was a mess. In the dark, you couldn't see much of it. Now I saw all the shirts, socks, jeans, books, and video games littered all over the floor, and I kinda got really frustrated. I wanted light in my room, but I didn't like the mess, but I also didn't want to start cleaning it up. I groaned. It probably should be done sooner or later, anyway. I went to my computer and opened up iTunes, and picked a random song. I started to pick stuff up, fold it if necessary, and put it where it's supposed to be.

This is the kind of shit that my life is filled with. I help people in school, I'm generally a nice person, I tend to put others before me, stuff like that. And when it comes to stuff I wanna do for myself, it's screwy and retarded. I mean, I know I'm just picking up my room, and that's something that I don't think I could've avoided for much longer anyway, but if you take a few steps back and look at the big picture, I don't think life likes me all that much. It's like, karma likes to make_ me_ its personal study specimen.

I'm nice. And I'm not being conceited when I say that. I really think I'm genuinely nice to others, unless you decide to crack my brain open and look at all the things I'm thinking when I talk to them. Then I'm not so nice sometimes. And in turn, people are mean to me. All of Clyde and Stan's friends on the football team? You bet. Cartman's annoying-as-hell posse from Debate Club? Yeah, them too. All because I have what some people consider an "unhealthy obsession" with certain video games and movies. And girls just don't pay much attention to me. Probably for obvious reasons.

I stay out of people's lives. First of all, I don't care about them. I mean, why would I care about what shoes you just bought, or what you got on that one exam, or who just broke up with whoever? People who feed off of that stuff just don't have lives. I mean, achieving all goals possible on a game is a pretty good life, right? . . . Okay, you don't need to comment on that. I guess I can't say anything about other people not having lives.

I work for my good grades in school. I'm real close to a 4.0 average, and I've worked my ass off to get there. Clyde copies all of the work that he possibly can, but he still slinks by with an average of just over 3.0. I don't have much sympathy for him in that field. Other people like to suck up my answers too, because they know I'm smart-or they assume I am because I'm Asian. I don't think that's very fair, do you?

Maybe I should tell someone how I feel about things. I folded a shirt on my lap and paused to think about it.

Nyeh. I'm not like that.

* * *

><p>"You need to find some friends, Kevin."<p>

"I _have_ friends."

"It doesn't seem like it." kjdfhksjdfhsdk fsd

I wish my mom would shut up. She's old-fashioned and doesn't get my life. And I don't get hers. And she doesn't realize that it's better to keep it that way, instead of trying to understand each other.

"I go hang out with them all the time."

"How come I've never seen them?"

"You have," I argued, keeping my eyes glued to the monitor. I refused to look at her, even though she was in my doorway with her hands on her hips. "You're just too old to remember."

"Kevin Stoley!"

I snorted. I make offensive remarks to her age all the time. I know I'm not the only one who finds it funny.

"You need to get rid of this attitude problem of yours!"

I slowly spun in my chair to face her. "I don't have an "attitude problem", I have an attitude that you have a problem with." Her bottom lip twitched, and her eyes narrowed furiously. I spun back to my computer. "So therefore it's _your_ problem."

My mom slammed my door, delivering a gust of wind that actually blew my bangs to the side. When I heard her thundering down the steps, I couldn't help but snicker triumphantly to myself. Then I just laughed.

Is that why karma picks on me?

Well, she deserved it. She was wrong. I do have friends. Maybe not the greatest buddies in the whole wide world, but they were still friends. Craig, Tweek, Token, and . . . I guess I have to call Clyde my friend. I mean, he's kind of the only one who'll play video games with me. Craig is always at home, playing his own games or watching TV. Token's always studying, or busy at some expensive store way out in Denver. Tweek is okay, but he doesn't like the video games I play because apparently they're too much pressure for him to handle. So I can either play video games with Clyde, or sit at home and do nothing but brood while I sit idly in front of the computer, like I am now.

I looked at my Xbox. I saw _Batman: Arkham City_ and _Mortal Kombat_ lying on the floor nearby. There was no way around it: they were beckoning me. And I wanted to give in.

So I did.

I grabbed my phone and found Clyde's number, and pressed the call key.

"Thanks for coming, dude," I said, on my knees over the Xbox to put in the disc. We had decided to do two-versus-two on _Mortal Kombat, _since that was Clyde's favorite choice in my wide selection of games. I said we could take turns on _Arkham City_, but he wanted to play _Mortal Kombat. _

"No problem," he said, finishing up the last of the oreo he had been eating. He licked his fingers. "I was bored, anyway."

"Huh, yeah," I mumbled, tossing him a remote. He mad no effort to catch it, but it still landed safely in his lap. I sat down on my bed next to him, and waited for the game to come on.

"So," he began, keeping his eyes glued to the screen as the menu popped up. "Do you have anyone in mind yet?"

I pressed a few buttons before I replied. Of course not, Clyde; what do you think? I don't even want to do this! But he sort of had a point: I guess I should be considering people. Oh, wait. There's a problem.

"I don't really know any girls, Clyde." Fact.

"Sure you do, Kev," he said, his face growing serious as the virtual-battle commenced.

"I do? Remind me; it seems I've forgot."

He rolled his eyes. "Fine, you win." There was a pause as our opponents grew stealthier and increasing their attacks. "I guess that means I need to introduce you to a few."

My thumb slipped as he said this, which caused me to complete a vital combo-move. "Um, Clyde?"

"Yeah?"

"Did you forget who you're talking to?"

"No, of course not," he said. At first I thought maybe he didn't get what I was implying, but then he added, "you're not completely invisible to the school, Kevin."

"Nyeh," I said bleakly. Yes I am.

Seeing that I wasn't in any way convinced, he told me, "Tell you what. Sometime soon we'll go around the school, me and you, and I'll introduce you to a bunch of nice girls. And we'll find you a date, mister."

I laughed out loud. This would probably be a good time to tell him what he needs to know.

"Clyde, you're a fucking idiot."

* * *

><p>I think Clyde forgot about me for a while. It was truly a godsend. So far, I've been introduced to zero girls, and he's copied off of zero of my papers. I was content in this short period of a few days.<p>

My contentedness ended when Clyde grabbed my arm right as we were dismissed for lunch and dragged me through the halls, in the opposite direction of my locker.

"Clyde! What are you doing?" I hissed angrily at him. I was actually really hungry today, and was not in any mood for his shitting around.

"Girls, remember?" he said gleefully, navigating expertly through the halls. It's like he knew exactly what he was looking for.

I suddenly felt sick rather than hungry. "Right now?" Yeah, I know that's a stupid thing to say, but it's all I could say without throwing up on the back of his varsity jacket.

"Well, first," he began, not taking hint of the queasiness in my voice. "I'm going to ask out my girl first."

Uh-oh. That meant Bebe, didn't it? That's why he was going so swiftly through the halls. He knew who he was looking for.

I saw the shiny blonde waves among the sea of other heads. I have to admit, her hair really stood out. Clyde's speed increased until he dropped my arm and strolled casually up to her, leaving me behind . . . to watch? Might as well.

I saw Clyde start a casual conversation, already making Bebe blush and giggle. Nyeh, she's always seemed annoying to me. And she also needs to pull up her shirt or something.

I quickly began to get bored, and my eyes involuntarily drifted elsewhere. At first I thought of ditching Clyde and going to lunch, but then my eyes landed on someone, and my thoughts evaporated.

I know this girl.

Long, light brown hair, kind of short, really skinny. She looked _so_ familiar. It was really bugging me now.

I felt my feet slowly start to move toward her, gradually picking up speed as I realized I had to reach her before she left her locker. My feet. I swear, sometimes they have a mind of their own.

I came right up to her locker. I realized that I almost had to look down to meet her eyes. It was weird.

She shut her locker as she noticed my presence. Her eyes slowly met mine.

"Do I know you?" She asked suspiciously.

"I was just about to ask you the same thing."

Oh, thank god-she smiled. She didn't think I was weird yet. God, even her smile looked so damn familiar. That soft brown hair, her baby blue eyes-

"I'm Heidi."

That's it! Heidi, from elementary! Duh.

"I'm Kevin. Stoley. I think we were in the same class in like, 3rd grade or something."

"Oh, Kevin! Yeah, I remember you from elementary school! Wow, you've . . . changed," she said with an impressed grin as she looked me up and down.

"So have you . . . I think," I said. The Heidi that I remembered was really kind of chubby. Almost like Clyde back when he was younger. Well, maybe I was getting mixed up with another girl, because the one I was talking to was as skinny as fuck.

She laughed awkwardly. "Yeah, I guess I have." She turned her body to face me, and held her lunch and books in front of her like a professional schoolgirl. "So what have you been up to lately?"

I opened my mouth to reply, but then heard a loud bang on the lockers from behind me, in Clyde's direction. I spun around, and Heidi peeked over my shoulder.

Sure enough, Clyde was slumped against a couple lockers, looking sadder than ever. He sniffled. He glanced at me from the corner of his eye.

I turned back to Heidi. "Sorry, I gotta go. Nice talking to you," I said politely.

She nodded and smiled. "You too. See you later," she said, turning around and heading to the lunch room. I watched her leave, and then reluctantly turned around and made my way over to Clyde.

He put his hands on my shoulders and slowly grabbed the cloth of my sweatshirt with a weak grasp. His eyes were already getting red and misty.

"She rejected me . . ." he began in a quiet, cracking voice. "And called me fat."

I frowned. This will be a touchy subject.

"Well, Clyde-"

"_How are you so skinny, Kevin?_" he blurted out, jerking my jacked down so my face was in close proximity with his. "She called me fat . . ."

You know how I'm pretty much Clyde's cheat-sheet? Well, I'm also his emotional-support pillow. I hate how these things pile up on me. If he goes to Token, he'll only be confused by his logical way of explaining things and feel worse. If he runs to Craig, he'll only start crying more because of Craig's refusal to offer emotional support of any kind. If he goes to Tweek, he'll just flip out and cause Tweek to have an emotional and mental breakdown too. So he comes to me. Not as a last resort, I hope.

I grabbed his collar and pulled him forward, onto his feet. His grip crumbled and his hands slid off my shirt, and he wiped his eyes before tears could fall. He looked to the side.

"If she did," I said, grabbing his elbow and leading him out of the now empty hallway. "Then I think you should do something about it."

He sniffed. For a while that was it, and I just tugged him back to my locker to get my lunch. When I closed it, he was looking at me with unusually big hazel eyes. Like a puppy.

". . . Can you help me?" he asked, his voice cracking.

"Help you? What do you mean?" I hope he doesn't say what I think he's about to say. Oh, God if he tells me that he-

"L-lose weight . . ."

Awh, no, he didn't. I tried not to let out a groan of resentment. I shouldn't have asked.

"Clyde, I dunno, I can't-"

"Please!" he wailed, grabbing my upper arms and pressing them to my sides. "I need to win her back."

I sighed deeply. I don't think he ever had her heart to begin with. And why does he think I can help him? I'm not a health coach. Sure, maybe I can slim him down a little-but not in time for the dance. Maybe by like, spring break or something. He jerked my arms impatiently.

"Fine, I'll try," I told him, peeling his hands off and walking past him. "Let's start with lunch, shall we?" He followed me obediently into the lunchroom.

* * *

><p>Guess where I am right now? Sitting on the bleachers at the football stadium. Yeah, karma decided to take a steel bat and slug me in the nuts. I decide to help Clyde out with his weight problems, and I'm dragged to his football practice after school. So far I've survived it by plugging in my iPod and tuning everything out, but I'm not sure how much longer I can take it. It's really cold, and it seems like its seeping through the front of my Vans and making my toes freeze black and blue. I can't believe they do year-round football; they must be crazy.<p>

I found it rather interesting to watch, however. Mainly I watched Stan and Clyde. The coach was always praising Clyde, I could see the pride beaming on his face. But the coach praised Stan more. And when he did, I could see Clyde step off broodingly. What a pussy.

After about an hour or so, I saw the team huddle together, and then break. Clyde came jogging in my direction, with Stan just behind him. I looked farther down the bleachers and saw Kyle and Kenny twittering away, and figured that's where Stan was headed. I bounced my knee. They had thick jackets on, unlike me and my sweatshirt. I shivered.

Clyde came over to me and stooped over to grab his back pack. He started to unzip it and look inside for something.

"The coach praises you a lot, you know," I told him, unplugging one of my earbuds so I could hear his reply.

He snorted. "Yeah, right. You should hear what he says to Stan." He pulled out something wrapped in a yellow paper wrapper from his back pack.

I frowned and snatched it away from him.

"Hey!" he protested, glaring at me. "That's mine!"

I observed the thing in my hand. Some kind of burrito from Taco Bell. It was still warm. I shook my head and reached for my back pack. I unzipped it and dug around in my bag, looking for my lunch. I found the apple I had saved from lunch, and tossed it at him.

"Not anymore it isn't," I replied, feeling smug at the disappointed look on his face. He made no attempt to hide it. "If you need to eat anything at all, eat that."

Clyde's gaze lingered at the red fruit in his hand for a second longer, and then he looked up at me, his head cocked to the side. "An apple?"

I nodded. "Yes. An apple."

He frowned. "Really?"

"Yes." I zipped up my backpack, turning my gaze away from him. "You should try it. You might be surprised."

He snorted. "I've had an apple before," he retorted.

I rolled my eyes. "If you don't want it, then don't eat it. Simple as that."

He didn't reply, and when I looked back up, he was staring down at the apple in his hands, debating whether he should eat it or not. Finally, he took a bite.

"This apple isn't even sweet," he told me, spitting out a few pieces. "You suck, Kevin."

I shrugged. "You want Bebe, don't you?"

He scowled. Then he turned on his heel and went back to the rest of his team.

I watched him leave, until eventually the team started practicing plays again. When I made sure that Clyde could not see me whatsoever, I slyly pulled his burrito out from my bag and gently unwrapped it. I began to take bites out of it nonchalantly, keeping my eyes on the game. This was actually really good, whatever it was.

I saw a couple of white flakes pass before my eyes. I looked up. The sky was gray, and small white flakes were starting to fall. Oh, no. Please don't let it snow. I'm cold enough as it is.

I looked behind me, seeing if there was a roof on top of the bleachers so I could move higher up and get out of the snow. But there wasn't. Instead, I saw Kyle and Kenny huddled next to each other on the bleachers, each wrapped in their own individual blankets. Man, they're smart, aren't they? Then again, they probably knew to bring them, since they had probably been to many of Stan's practices. If I continue to do this, I'll bring a blanket, too.

I shivered. Should I go ask them for one? I mean, they have _two_. And they have thick jackets underneath. You know; I think I will.

I put Clyde's burrito down and pulled out my earbuds. I began to scale the bleachers, and as they heard me coming, I saw Kenny glance up in my direction, and then Kyle did too, since Kenny probably stopped talking.

"Kevin? Is that you?" Kenny asked, squinting as he looked up at me. God, his furry parka hood looked _so _warm. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm here with Clyde," I told him, sticking my hands in my pocket. I tried to clamp my jaw shut when I wasn't talking so my teeth wouldn't chatter.

"Oh, Clyde," Kenny said, looking out at the field. I guess he either found him or got tired of looking for him, because he quickly looked back up at me. "So why'd you come up here? You can sit down if you want; me and Kyle were just talking about great Esther would be in bed."

"No we weren't Kenny; _you_ were!" Kyle snapped at him. Kenny looked to the side and pulled his lip up, thinking. Kyle rolled his eyes, which then landed on me. "But you _can_ sit down if you want."

I shrugged it off. "Nah, it's okay. I was just wondering-" I said, looking from his face down to the blanket that he had wrapped himself up in. "-if you had any other blankets?"

"Oh, yeah! Here, take mine," Kyle said, already shrugging his off.

"Wait, no, if you-"

"It's okay Kevin," Kenny said, cutting me off. He opened one side of his blanket like a wing and scooted closer to Kyle, wrapping it around his shoulders and binding them together. "Me and Kyle can share . . ."

Kyle lifted his head, with a disgusted look. He pushed Kenny away, who mewled as he did so. "No, Kenny."

Kyle held out his blanket to me. "Uh, are you sure?" I asked, now feeling bad.

"Yeah, it's no problem," he told me. He leaned behind me and grabbed a backpack. "I can just use Stan's."

I took the blanket quickly, and held it under my arm. "Thanks," I said to him. He nodded as he began to unfold the blanket that Stan had in his backpack.

I started to turn around to go back to my seat, when I heard Kenny cry out, "Where you going, Kevin? Won't you stay?"

I turned around and saw that Kenny had sprawled out across the seat, with his head facing the opposite direction. I felt even worse. I don't even really know these two, but I shouldn't just leave, right? I opened my mouth to reply, but then I caught Kyle's eye and he shook his head, grinning.

_You can go_, he mouthed, with a nod towards the bottom of the bleachers. I smiled back and headed on my way. As I headed down, I heard Kyle yelp, "Ack! Gross, Kenny! Stop!"

I can only wonder.

I sat back down in my spot, and now the bleachers were colder than ever. I guess I'd just have to warm it up again. I wrapped the blanket gratefully around my shoulders and plugged my earbuds back in. There was a smell lingering on the blanket; some kind of cologne. It smelled expensive. I don't know.

I felt snowflakes landing on my nose. I wish I had a hood like Kenny, or a hat like Kyle. Sometimes I really doubt my own intelligence.

As more and more snow began to fall, I realized that I was again feeling very peaceful. No, it was different from the contentedness I had been feeling most of the week. It was that peace I had felt in the morning, however long ago that was. At Stark's Pond and stuff.

I smiled, then brought up the hem of Kyle's blanket to cover it. Not like anyone would see, but it just felt better. I glanced down at the burrito lying next to me, only half finished. It had a couple snow flakes on it, so wrapped up the exposed part and brought it under the warm protection of the blanket. Then I looked down at my shoes. Just plain Vans. They were covered with snow flakes, too, and that made my grin even wider. It just looked really cool.

I brought my gaze out onto the field. Those football players didn't make the scene very nice. Running around and tackling each other, and not to mention slapping each other in sometimes strange places. I closed my eyes and turned down my music, trying to get absorbed in the peace.

At first, I imagined Christmas. That's what usually comes to mind when I want to feel happy, especially when it's snowing, and at this time of year. I thought not of presents, but the smell of cookies and freshly-cut Christmas trees, the soft, colorful lights strung about the town, and just the _general feeling_ of Christmas. It seemed to work for a little while, until I realized that I shouldn;t be thinking about Christmas to make me happy like this.

I opened my eyes.

I pinpointed Clyde out on the field. I couldn't hear or lip-read what he was saying, but he was smiling and having a giggling fit like a little sixth grader, like he was really happy, and having a great time. But, was he really? I know I have no reason to decide when; he's happy or not, but something was really bugging me about his behavior.

I think he was having a good time. A truly good time. And his behavior isn't what was bugging me. It was _mine_.

How come I couldn't find an activity where I could just laugh out loud, run around with a crazy grin, and have giggling fits? Yeah, maybe it used to be like that with most video games, but sadly, I'm starting to think I've been growing out of them. I don't remember the last time I've laughed so hard that it hurt. I really don't.

I hope this doesn't mean I'm slipping into depression or anything major like that. I don't think I'm depressed, but then again, denial _is_ the first step, right? Nah. Maybe I'm just really mature, and I can't understand the humor of my peers anymore. Ugh, I don't like the sound of that, either. I know I'm not mature, and on many levels at that.

I sighed and stared grumpily out onto the field. I don't like the conclusions I come to. I shouldn't have thought about that. Now I'm weirded out with myself because I think I might be depressed. But then again, I don't._ I don't know_. I'm just really . . . jealous now, when I look at Clyde. Maybe he isn't all as happy as he looks, but still! _When's the last time you've looked like that, huh, Kevin? _

Look at what he's doing to me. I'm mad at him. He gets a passable average because he copied my papers. He dragged me to football practice. I'm his support pillow, even if I don't wanna be. I'm trying to do an impossible task: slim him down in time for the dance. And now, I'm jealous, because he can have a good time, and I can't.

Now I want to kick a baby.

I fidgeted with frustration. I guess karma decided to get personal this time, and plant its foot right in my brain, in my thoughts. I rested my chin on my fist, and looked out glumly onto the field. I didn't look at Clyde. It made me want to kick a baby.

In the corner of my eye, I saw a few girls growing larger as they neared. What were they from? I didn't know girls had year-round sports, too.

I was about to look back out on the field when one of the girls caught my eye. She had a big bag slung over her shoulder, and her pants were longer than everyone else's.

"Hey, Heidi!" I called out after unplugging my earbuds, cupping my hands around my mouth, even if it wasn't necessary. I saw her head snap around in my direction. I waved her over. Damn, I hate it when things catch my eye.

When she finally stood in front of me, she asked with a smile, "Kevin! What are you doing here?"

"I was about to ask you the same thing."

She laughed. Why did she laugh?

. . . Oh, it's because that's the exact same thing I told her earlier today. Wow, that's amazing. I didn't know I could be that dumb.

She sat down next to me. "I'm on the lacrosse team," she said, her hair bouncing on her shoulders as she turned to look at me.

"Oh," I replied, still numb from realizing my stupid mistake. "That's cool."

She shrugged. "I guess it's okay. What _are_ you doing here, though?"

I pulled my blanket a little more tightly around my shoulders. "I have to wait for Clyde," I said, making no effort to hide my displeasure.

She let out a soft laugh. "Huh. Why do you have to wait for him?"

I shrugged, watching him out on the field again. Now that Heidi was talking to me, I didn't feel like kicking a baby anymore.

"I'm kind of . . . coaching him," I told her, narrowing my eyes as I figured out how to word it.

She looked at me, not quite understanding. "Huh? Coaching him?"

I kind of leaned to the side. "Ehh, he wants me to help him lose weight so Bebe will go to the dance with him."

She looked down and crossed he legs. "Oh."

"But I don't think I can do a thing about it."

She smirked. "That's kinda mean."

"No, no, I didn't mean it like that," I tried to explain, shaking my head. I laughed too. "No, I mean because I don't know a thing about losing weight. And he kinda seems like a hopeless case."

I remembered the burrito he had tried to eat at break time, and brought it out from under my blanket. I showed it to her. "This was his 'snack' that he brought."

She opened the wrapper a little and examined the burrito. "You let him eat half of it."

I smiled sheepishly. "No, that was me. I gave him an apple to eat."

She laughed. "Well, that was nice of you."

"He wants to lose weight, right?" I said with a smile. "I think it's fair."

She smiled at me, and that's when my brain finally started working like it normally does. I saw snowflakes landing in her hair and realized how cold she must be.

"Here, take my blanket," I told her, taking it off of my shoulders and handing it to her before she could protest. "Well, it's Kyle's, but, whatever."

She smiled and gratefully took the blanket. "Thanks, but we can share," she told me, giving me half of the blanket. It was big enough if we turned it sideways, but she still scooted closer to me. I felt awkward, because I don't remember the last time a girl had gotten so close to me.

From up above in the bleachers, we heard someone whistle, obviously at us. Kenny. Heidi laughed a little, but I stayed mute, because I didn't think it was very funny. Then we heard loud steps coming down the bleachers, and I was afraid of what would come next.

To my great relief, it was Kyle. He came down to us and stood next to Heidi.

"Hey," he said, still laughing at something Kenny probably did or said. "Do you have the study sheets for math?"

Heidi's jaw dropped in disbelief. She gasped. "What's this? Kyle doesn't have a math study sheet?"

"Cut it out, Heidi," he said, now laughing softly at just her. "My dog ate it."

"You have a dog?" Heidi asked, greatly surprised.

"Kenny."

Heidi found this greatly amusing, and I only smiled a little. I guess it was kind of funny. Then she nodded at her big sports bag and said to Kyle, "Yeah, it's in there somewhere. You might have to dig around for it a little."

Kyle bent down to go through her bag, and then pulled out a sheet of paper within a few seconds. "Thanks."

"No problem," Heidi said, grinning.

Kyle began to retreat, stepping up a couple bleachers, when he stopped abruptly and turned around. He cocked his head and gazed thoughtfully at us.

"When did you guys start dating?" he asked with a tone that I hoped to be nothing but innocence.

"We aren't," I said quickly. Maybe too quickly. I hope I didn't offend Heidi or anything. Well, why would it? We _aren't _dating. I just didn't want Kyle getting the wrong idea.

"Oh," Kyle said, smiling in an embarrassing way. "Sorry." He turned around and continued on his way.

When we were alone again, I couldn't help but feeling extremely awkward. I'm almost positive she was feeling that way, too.

We watched the football team in silence, and finally the coach blew the final whistle, and Clyde began to walk over, with Stan.

"I guess I should go," Heidi said, taking the blanket off and standing up. She grabbed her big bag and slung it over her shoulder.

"Um, yeah, alright." I rubbed the back of my neck as I took the blanket back. "See you later."

She smiled and started to walk away, and as I watched her walking away, the gears in my brain sparked. Heidi. The dance! Duh, do it now!

"Wait, Heidi!" I called out. She turned around with somewhat of a hopeful look on her face.

"Yeah?"

Spit it out. "Wanna go to the dance with me?"

She smiled. A real big smile, too. "Sure. Let's do it."

I grinned as she waved and turned to leave. She passed by Clyde and Stan, both of which smiled at her.

Clyde came next to me and I started folding Kyle's blanket. "Who's she?"

"Heidi. My friend," I replied. "And my date."

You know, it's actually really weird how I feel about taking Heidi to the dance. I just met her today, and as far as I know, I don't have a crush on her. I think she's only gonna be my date this one time. Just a friend all the other times. Because, I don't feel attracted to her, so I don't want to plain out start dating her. No, don't get me wrong: she's really pretty, but I just don't have a crush on her. I think she's nice and fun to talk to. I hope she won't want to go any farther than friends.

"Your date?" Clyde asked, amazed. Then he frowned and looked very crestfallen. "It's probably cause your skinny."

I lifted Clyde's burrito off the seat next to me, and took a bite. I shrugged. "Maybe it is."

Please review, to anyone who reads!


	3. Chapter 3

Um, I know no body really reads Stolovan fics, since there are like, ten, but please, review if you get the chance! Not exactly sure where I wanna go with this story yet, so reviews will definitely help!

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><p><strong>CHAPTER 3<strong>

I pounded my fist down on the desk, real hard. I was really to angry to care about the pain, though.

"God dammit, Clyde," I growled. I spun around and glared at him, sitting on my bed, looking as innocent and sorry as he could. I don't think he was faking, either. "God _damn!"_

"I'm sorry, Kevin," he wailed, his toes curling inward. "I really didn't mean to!"

I groaned. I pushed a hand through my hair, closing my eyes to cool down. I wouldn't be surprised if it started falling out.

"_Why_ did you have to do it?" I said with heavy frustration.

"I . . . you know how much I want to impress her," he said quietly and cautiously, aware that if he said something stupid, I would explode on him. I was probably going to snap anyway.

"But Clyde," I said, my voice dripping with hatred and malice. "It had my goddamn _name _on it!"

You're probably wondering what this whole argument is about. And believe me, I have fantastic reason to be pissed off at my little buddyroo Clyde here. He took my analysis report-my goddamn _computer tech_ report- from my locker and tried to show it off to that old tramp of his, Bebe. And then, you know what he does? He pretends to be all bad-ass about it, pretends like he can trash it without it making a dent to his grade. And that's _exactly_ what he does. He throws it away. And it wasn't on my computer or anything, so I can't just print out another. That was my quality, _hand-written_ work. I nearly _shit_ myself when he told me what he did.

"She didn't even notice," he mumbled to himself. I still heard it, though. Unfortunately for him.

"She didn't notice?" I repeated, my voice dangerously low. I opened my eyes, and Clyde was as pale as my goddamn bedsheets. I turned towards him and began to take slow steps towards him. "She _didn't notice_? That's not the goddamn point, Clyde!" I rushed towards him, my voice loud now. God, I felt like stabbing him in the neck. "Did you ever stop to think, as you were rummaging through my locker, about what importance that paper held for me? Did you ever think, 'oh maybe Kevin needs this? It's in his journal, after all.' It was in my backpack, for Chrissake!" I was now right in front of him, towering over him as he cowered defenselessly on my bed. I smacked his forehead rather hard with the back of my hand. "Do you _ever _think?"

That got him going. He shut his eyes and covered his forehead, and brought his knees closer to his chest to defend himself. "I'm sorry!" he wailed, his voice cracking. "I'm so sorry, Kevin! I wasn't thinking!"

"No shit!" I snapped before I could stop it. He cringed and buried his face in his knees, his hands moving to the back of his neck. I turned around angrily, not wanting him in my sight.

"I'm so sorry . . ." he sobbed, hardly understandable. "Don't hurt me . . ."

My anger vanished when he said that. I slowly turned around and looked at him. Resentment flooded through my body, feeling worse than the anger. My mouth was open just a crack and my blue eyes were looking at him with concern. My face started to flush red, and I looked from him to the ground, not knowing how to take action. I felt so bad. I think I've hit him before, but never out of anger. And I don't think I've snapped at him like that, before, either.

I moved towards my bed and lightly sat down next to him. When he felt my presence, he flinched, which made me feel like throwing up. I can't believe that I had just scared him _that _much. I just put my arm around him. I didn't even think about it-I _just did it_.

"Awh, I'm sorry Clyde," I said softly to him. And those words were rehearsed in no way whatsoever. I was sorry; I really was. I felt so horrible for snapping at him like that. Even though I had perfectly good reason to, he was just so . . . pathetic, and I couldn't help but feel bad. I felt like I had just drop-kicked a baby bunny in front of a little kid. It was pretty bad. "I didn't mean to hit you."

"Y-yes, you did." he replied miserably. He sniffled. "And, I d-deserved it, too."

I looked away. What do I say to that? That was the straight-out truth, and I couldn't say a goddamn thing against it. I sighed and pulled my long, skinny legs up over the edge of my bed and got into a position, just like he was. Except I didn't hide my face behind my knees. I slid a little closer to him, as he seemed to relax a little.

"Okay, you're right about those," I said, but continued before he could be offended, "and I'm sorry. I really am, Clyde."

He didn't reply at first, but only lifted his face so one glossy hazel eye was looking at me. I heard a faint sniffle. "Me too."

"Then you forgive me?" I don't know; words were just coming out of my mouth now.

"Yeah," he said, sounding like he was still trying to keep a little dignity. "Can you do that, too?"

"What, forgive you?"

"Yeah."

I held my tongue before anything slipped out. I actually kinda wanted to say no now. I mean, why should I forgive him, besides for feeling bad? He deserved a smack on the head and some yelling. He threw away my goddamn analyst report that was due _in two days_. And now it was all gone. I don't know how I could forgive him now, after all these thoughts passed through my head. It was actually an obvious choice, to say no. He didn't deserve an ounce of my forgiveness.

"Yeah. I forgive you."

He may not deserve it, but somehow, he got it.

I saw his cheek rise a little, and figured that he smiled. That was good.

"You know," he said, sniffling afterwards. "Even though Craig's my best friend, he's never this nice to me. Even after he punches my face."

I had to smile a little at that. I can only imagine. Craig can be a real sore asshole at times, and I'm sure Clyde only escalates his soreness, seeing what he can do to ordinary people like me. I'm sure they both have a blast when they get into arguments.

"He's a smart guy," I said wittingly. I don't think Clyde got it.

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><p>I can't believe myself. I let Wednesday, the day I had my moment with Clyde, slip by without any work getting done. And now, looking back, I realized how dumb I had been to forgive him like that. Now he thought everything was happy-doodly and everything was fine, when it really wasn't. If I had stayed mad at him, maybe he would've been the one regretting his actions, and maybe even doing some work to help me out. But no. I had to be all soft and mushy and forgive him for doing the unforgivable. Now it's Thursday, and I have no work whatsoever to present in class tomorrow.<p>

Also, looking back, I see how retarded that was. First of all, I hit him on the head. That was retarded. Then he cried. That was also retarded. And then, I climbed onto my goddamn bed and held him, for Chrissake. I hugged him, as he was crying on my bed. We had practically been _cuddling_.

But, for some reason . . . I couldn't call _that_ retarded.

It's totally weird . . . but it's easy to explain. You see, when I hit him on the head and when I was yelling my head off at him, I felt pretty bad, which made me feel retarded. But when I was talking to him, making him feel better, I felt really good towards myself, like I was making up for what I had done. And to a person who, in my mind, didn't really deserve it much. I don't know if that really makes it any better, but I kinda felt like it did. And you know what another good thing about it was? When we were on my bed, with our arms, you know, kinda around each other . . . well, I have to tell you I got that really nice peaceful feeling. I really did, and I'm not gonna lie. I have no problem admitting that, but one thing that I am worried about is how it came to be.

You know how I said I didn't wanna go around watching sunsets all the time to feel good? Well, I don't exactly want to go around hugging Clyde all day, either.

But it was really nice, in a weird way . . . and I mean _really _weird. Weird enough so that I was thinking about it like crazy today. I have to say, it occupied my mind more than my missing report problem. And that was what I should really be thinking about. But I just couldn't. This thing on my mind was far heavier of a burden.

You know, maybe now that I realized that I could feel this way with Clyde, we could just hang out or something normal like that, and I'll still get that feeling. Clearly, it's worth a shot. And I doubt I'll miss. There's a pretty fat chance that I'll hit it home with that feeling, once I can figure out where, how, and when to apply it. I hope I don't lose my temper again. After Clyde left, I got on my computer and added something to my sticky-note in the corner. _He's going to make me fail my classes._

A tap on my shoulder made me jump. I turned to see Heidi standing next to me, holding her stuff in her hands. She smiled.

"It's time to leave, Kevin," she said without a single drop of teasing in her voice. Only a little amusement. "The bell rang."

I looked up at the clock, and my eyes caught a glimpse of the teacher's mystified look. I started to gather my things rather sheepishly.

"You weren't paying any attention in class, were you?" she asked, seeing me so flustered.

"Eh, not much," I admitted.

She stepped aside so I could get out of my desk. Now she was looking up at me, as equally mystified as the teacher. "Is everything okay?"

I shrugged. I didn't know what to tell her. Everything _was _fine, but . . . you know. I walked out of the classroom, not answering her. She followed curiously.

"Kevin," she said, peering at me from below, "I don't know you very well, but I can tell something's up. You gonna tell me?"

I slowed down my pace. I didn't want it to seem like I was angry, or avoiding her or anything. She caught up to me and trotted by my side. I sighed.

"I guess we should know a little about each other, if we're going to be each other's dates and stuff," I said, allowing myself a light laugh.

"Is it Clyde?" she asked, interrupting my laughter.

"Wha-" I started, stunned. "What?"

"I said, is it-"

"No, no, I heard," I said, before she could finish. I glanced around uneasily. "How'd you figure that?"

She shrugged. "I dunno, really. He's the only one I've ever seen you with."

I tensed. "I have other frie-"

"I know you have other friends," she said, smiling. She nudged me playfully. "You don't have to get all defensive about it."

I didn't reply right away. So far, Heidi was really the only girl who I hadn't discovered to be a pain in the ass, and I prayed to God she would stay that way. She nudged me again to remind me that I hadn't replied yet.

"I, uh," I began, just to let her know that I was eventually coming to an answer. "It's uh, kinda a long story."

She just nodded. "Alright, mister. How about we talk about it at lunch? We can discuss other things, too."

"Yeah, alright."

We spilt up, heading to different classes. There was no way I would consider her an asshole.

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><p>I grabbed my lunch out of my locker and slammed it shut. I headed into the lunch room. I almost brought my iPod, like I normally do, but then remembered I was sitting with Heidi today. As I entered the loud, crowded room, I immediately began searching for her.<p>

I found her standing up, near the back corner, face-to-face with the blond-headed beauty that was Bebe. She looked strangely uncomfortable. At first I was going to go approach them, and then held back to see what was going on.

Bebe seemed to be pushing something under Heidi's nose, looking very stern about it. Heidi kept glancing around fearfully, and was shaking her head profusely. They were talking to each other, and it made me wish I could lip read so badly. Bebe didn't look so mean, she just looked like she really wanted Heidi to cooperate in whatever she was trying to force her into. It took a while, and I must've looked like a retard standing there the whole time, but I think Heidi must've finally given in. She took whatever Bebe had been waving under her nose, and looked away from Bebe. Suddenly, I saw Bebe's frown deeply and turn Heidi's face back to her with a gentle hand. She said something to her, looking awfully concerned, and then gave Heidi a brisk hug, which wasn't really returned. Then Heidi left, looking almost _disgusted_. I got my feet to move before she spotted me watching her, and I began to walk away from the spot that I had been rooted to a moment ago. That was like, the weirdest thing ever. I kind of looped in a circle, so I would pass through her line of sight.

Right on cue, she called out, "Oh, Kevin, hey!" Also right on cue, I turned around, pretending like I hadn't seen her. She reached out to grab my sleeve, but then her hand kind of flinched, and she pulled it back. That was weird.

"There you are," I said, pretending like that hadn't just happened. She smiled, kind of weakly, actually. It only made me even more curious to know what had just happened between her and Bebe. I knew it was none of my business, though. "Wanna find a seat?"

She nodded, and I led her around the lunchroom to look for a couple open seats. As we sat down, I noticed that she had a composition book with her, and a few other books, that she placed next to her as we sat. How interesting.

I really wanted to ask her about what I just saw. But I knew I shouldn't.

"So, um, Clyde," she mentioned. She wasn't looking at me. I'd never seen her like this before. And I know it has to do with what just happened with Bebe. But I had to keep my mouth shut. It killed me.

"Oh, right," I said, opening my lunch and pulling out a sandwich wrapped in plastic-wrap. I actually _poked it with my fingers_. That's how hesitant I was feeling. "Um, I dunno, it's really weird."

"I think I can take it," she replied, smiling. Kind of. She started opening her lunch, too.

I was having second thoughts about this. I should've just told her to drop it when she was walking with me in the hall. I think maybe it would've been better. But I couldn't just turn around and tell her that now. The whole point of us having lunch together was so she could find out what had been distracting me in class earlier. Heh. My mouth sometimes. It doesn't listen to my brain.

"Well, um, we kind of had an awkward moment," I started, not looking at her. I didn't have to try that hard. "In my room."

"Awkward how?"

Of course she would be asking questions. Like I was being descriptive enough to satisfy her.

"He was crying . . . and I was there holding him." I took a bite of my sandwich. She probably thought we were best buddies, and she probably didn't see anything wrong with me hugging him while he cried. She didn't know us well enough yet.

"Why was he crying?" she asked curiously. A subtle smile danced on her lips, and there was a hint of amusement in her voice. Maybe she _did _think it was weird after all, but she was kind enough to keep her mouth shut about it.

"I hit him," I said. I allowed myself to be a little more descriptive for her, and added, "Well, I kinda called him stupid and smacked his forehead pretty hard."

She swallowed, and stared at me. "Why on earth didja do that?"

I kinda laughed, and looked down at my lunch. I guess I'd just end up telling her the whole story backwards.

"I actually had really good reason," I explained to her before I continued. "Cause, you know how he wants to impress Bebe and all?" I asked, and she nodded. "Well, he took my lab journal from me and showed it to her, and then _throws it away_. And he thought he could keep it from me."

She swallowed. "Wow," was all she said for a little while.

"Yeah, so that's why I hit him."

"Huh," she said, looking down at her cup of pudding. "That was really shallow of him. What class was your report from?"

I looked at her. Why did that matter? That wasn't the goddamn point. But I didn't want to be rude, so I told her, "Computer Tech. Why?"

He face lit up, and she slid her composition book over to me. I saw that it was labeled _computer tech._ I stared at it.

"You can get info from my report," she told me, tapping it with her fingers. "And maybe just improvise a little."

I was stunned. "Are you sure?" I asked, in disbelief. I couldn't believe how goddamn lucky I was.

She nodded. "Go ahead. I don't need it tonight; it's yours."

I slid the notebook out from under her fingers and placed it on my right. "God, thanks, Heidi," I said sincerely.

She shook her head. "It's no problem, really." I watched as she began to gather her things. "And I'm sorry, I really am, but I need to get going. Talk to you later?"

"Uh, yeah, okay." She stood up and grabbed her lunch and the rest of her things. Before she could walk away entirely, I said to her, "Thanks a bunch, Heidi."

She just smiled that weak, awkward smile of hers again, and left. Then I decided to get up and look for Clyde, to see what kind of junk he was eating for lunch.

I found him at our usual table, with Craig, Tweek, and Token. I shoved him and made room for myself at the end of the table.

"Where have you been?" Clyde asked me rudely, upset by my rough shove.

"Talking to Heidi."

"Really? Good," he said, going back to lunch.

I glanced at him. Good? Why did he say that?

"What do you me-"

"So I told my mom about you trying to slim me down and stuff," he said, cutting me off. I don't think he intended to, since I had started off quietly to begin with, but it still made me edgy. "And look at what she packed me for lunch!"

I decided to push that matter to the side, and actually listen to what he was saying. I looked at his lunch. There was some fruit, a granola bar, and half a sandwich.

"Looks okay," I said.

He gawked at me. "_Okay?_" he repeated in disbelief. "My mom used to get me Taco Bell for lunch!"

"Yeah, and that's why you're as goddamn fat as you are," I replied. I was kinda sore about this whole business with Bebe. I had a feeling in my gut that Clyde was somehow connected to it, too.

He glared at me. And he didn't stop. After a little, I was kinda feeling creeped out, so I slowly raised an eyebrow and turned back to my lunch. As soon as I brought my gaze away, I felt him kick my shin, which I ignored. Until he did it again. And again. And again. And-

"_What?"_ I yelled, snapping my head in his direction.

"I thought you were nice."

I threw my sandwich down on the table and closed my eyes, growing agitated. "God, don't get on my nerves today, Clyde. I'm a little frustrated," was all I said. It was all that I wanted to say. I think he got the hint, and he looked away. I think maybe he also remembered what happened yesterday.

"Alright, at least you're nicer than _some _people," he said, then looked directly at Craig. He just flipped him off while taking a sip of Pepsi.

Before I let a moment of silence come up, I asked, "Do you know what's going on with Bebe?"

Clyde glanced at me. "What are you talking about?"

The way he said that so defensively got me on edge. "She's been weird today."

"How so?" Craig joined it. He was scribbling on his fingers with a purple sharpie.

"She was like, talking to Heidi," I said, hoping Clyde would let something slip.

"I'm sure it's none of your business," Clyde snapped. Craig and I both glanced at him, and then at each other, confused and curious.

"But she was like, bribing her," I added. Craig raised an eyebrow.

"Did she take it?" Clyde asked. "The bribe, I mean."

I peered at Clyde mysteriously for a moment. "Why would you care?"

Clyde was caught off-guard. "I dunno, it's interesting."

Craig snorted as he drew lines up and down his hand. Give Craig a sharpie, and he can entertain himself for hours on end. "That's bull."

Clyde shot a glare at him, but turned back to me when I pushed his shoulder. "Clyde, what do you know about this?"

It was his turn to be snappy. "Why would you care?"

Luckily, I'm usually on my guard. I took no hit from his crude reply. "Because, Heidi's my friend and she seemed troubled about it."

Clyde snorted. "Heh, friend my ass," he said. I nearly punched him for that.

I gritted my teeth. "What are you tal-"

I smelled perfume behind me, and saw Clyde smile and look over my head. I turned around, and Bebe was standing right behind me. Did I already say that she should pull up her shirt every now and then? And maybe use just one gallon of perfume, not five.

"Hey Bebe, what's up?" Clyde asked, changing his snappy, defensive tone to that smooth-talker one of his. Craig rolled his eyes.

"Not much," she said. She smiled and asked, "Mind if I sit?" I think she glanced at me right after she said that. But I don't know, it was kind of hard to see her face with that cloud of perfume surrounding her.

"No, not at all," he said, scooting over to make room. I didn't budge. As she sat down next to me, I turned my face away so she wouldn't see me grimace from the intense smell of her perfume. It would probably start to give me a headache soon. Craig sat there, waving his sharpie-covered hand under his nose, eyes narrowed. Tweek coughed, but then covered his mouth because he hated to look rude. Token smelled it, and looked up, taking his mind out of his book for a second. He made a face and went back to reading. Clyde was just drooling all over the place.

"So, Bebe," Clyde began, cocking an eyebrow, in an attempt to be somewhat attractive. Attempts don't always succeed. "Kevin thinks you're up to some mysterious business with Heidi."

Clyde. Why did God give you a mouth? He should've left it out, just like he did with your brain.

Bebe turned to me, looking surprised. "Oh? My friend Heidi?"

I didn't answer, but I just gazed at her with glazed, bored eyes, with my chin leaning into my palm.

"Yeah, you're friend," Clyde answered for me, so Bebe wouldn't leave. "And his date."

Bebe's face lit up, and she clasped her hands together delightfully, making her bracelets jingle. "You're taking Heidi to the dance?"

I nodded dully. I wouldn't be surprised if my mouth had fallen open. That's how dull I felt, sitting next to this fake girl.

She squealed in delight and turned to Clyde. "Oh, hun, let's do a double!"

This got my attention. I think Craig was a little interested too, but he tried not to look it. Double? Did that mean that Clyde had actually gotten Bebe, or what? Because, like, he hasn't exactly lost weight yet. Or, it's not visible, at least. And if Bebe rejected him at first because he was fat, then that shows what a fake she is.

Oh, boo. All my _terribly hard work_ to get him to lose weight just went down to drain. Boo, boo, whatever shall I do.

"Oh, I dunno, they aren't even intimately inv-" Clyde began. Did he just say intimately? Wow, I didn't know that word existed to him. Maybe there is more to the English language to him than just "see-spot-run" sentences.

"Come on, it'll be fun!" she protested, grabbing Clyde's face in her hands, making her noisy bracelets jingle. She stuck out her bottom lip and pouted. "Please?"

"Ey, alright," Clyde said, laughing and shrugging her hands off. She clapped and was absolutely filled to the brim with sunshine. I was ready to vomit, and Craig looked like he already had. Tweek and Token had scooted a little farther away from the rest of us, trying to subtly escape the two. I applauded them in my mind. I don't think Clyde or Bebe would notice if they flew to Madagascar.

Clyde leaned past Bebe and looked at me. "You wanna do a double, then?"

". . . With you?" I asked, maybe a little rudely. I saw Craig smirk, but I don't think Clyde or Bebe noticed.

"Yeah, duh," Clyde said in a tone that was supposed to make me seem stupid or something. Please, Clyde, don't make me punch you in front of your _wonderful _"girlfriend". "We're going to the drive-in after the dance to watch a movie. You in?"

"Well, I dunno, I need to ask her," I said. In truth, I really didn't want to be anywhere near these two when I was with Heidi. I kinda just wanted it to be a kind of night where we talked a little and had some food. Maybe dance a couple songs, and even a slow one. Sure, a drive-in would be fun, but maybe not with these two . . .

"Awh, come on, Kev," Bebe said, placing a hand on my shoulder. I hate it when people call me Kev. It's nasty. I felt like an arm of her perfume would curl around my neck and choke me. Maybe her bracelets would send in a few attacks, too. "Heidi's cool, I'm sure she'd want to."

I shrugged. "I'll ask her." That headache was starting to kick in. "You guys would take Clyde's car, right?"

"Of course, silly," Bebe said, giggling up a storm. Her eyes twinkled as she turned back to Clyde and added, "Everyone needs their privacy!"

I was getting really pretty agitated. They were acting so goddamn cutesy-tootsey around each other, and it was _so _fake. It was unbelievable.

"What happened to you thinking he was fat?" I asked her as innocently as I could manage. When Bebe turned around and looked at me in surprise, I saw Clyde glare at me from over her shoulder. I blinked at him and turned to Bebe, looking at her expectantly.

"I don't think he's fat," she said, turning pink. Wow, what a phony.

"He asked me to help him lose weight 'cause of you," I replied. I bit my tongue before the _bitch _I was about to add slipped out.

Taking this as an opportunity, her eyes lit up and she turned back to Clyde and gasped. "You were going to do that, for me?" she asked, her voice filled with icing and sugar. I rolled my eyes and groaned inwardly. "Oh, I don't think you're fat," she cooed.

Clyde grinned and laughed lightly, and did this weird nose-nudge thing with Bebe. Craig immediately grabbed his lunch up in one of his big hands, and stood up. As he walked stalked away disgustedly, I nearly dropped to the floor and grabbed his ankles so he could drag me away with him. I would cry and beg for it if he made me. It was sickening to be here. Even Tweek and Token had moved, way to the end of the table, on the opposite side. Token started sharing his book with Tweek, probably to help him focus on something else. Either it was a really good book, or they both just really didn't want any part of Clyde and Bebe's performance, because they both seemed deeply focused. Token is a real saint sometimes.

I wished saints helped bad people like me every now and then.

I would've got up and left, too, except I had unfinished business with Mr. and Mrs. Fake-Fucking-Flirts here. I wanted to know what was going on with Heidi.

"Hey, seriously, though," I began, tapping on Bebe's shoulder to get her attention away from Clyde. "What was going on with Heidi?"

I was _going _to get an answer. Not only because of simple curiosity, but the fact that, if Heidi was a friend now, I should be concerned in anything that seemed like a problem. I was _determined _to get an answer. I would torture it out of them if I had to. If needed, I would venture to hell and fight off Satan and his demons with only my bare fists, and come back with his head as-

"Oh, don't worry about it, hun. Just some girl stuff," she said in a twinkly, airy voice, tapping the end of my nose with a finger.

"Fine," I said, in an unusually tired way. "Okay."

Yeah, I'll admit that sometimes my thoughts get ahead of me. I would never go to hell and back, for anyone, or anything. I'm afraid of Satan. I guess I'll be shaking in my grave, huh?

"Okay, I guess I should be leaving," Bebe announced, breaking gently out of Clyde's grasp and standing up. "See you later, sweetie pie." She kissed the top of his head and left.

"God, isn't she something . . ." Clyde breathed, smiling as he took in the lingering scent of her perfume.

I stared at him dully. Tweek and Token moved back to their original spots across from us at the table. I swallowed and tapped my fingers impatiently and angrily on the table.

He must've noticed the dark aura coming from me, because soon he was looking at me, too.

"What?" he asked, his hazel eyes wide.

"My whole lab report . . . was thrown out," I said, my voice once again dangerously low. Seems like I only ever have to use that tone with Clyde. " . . . For _that_?"

"Hey!" Clyde said, his voice getting loud and pitchy. "I thought we settled this!"

My breath caught in my throat when the words escaped his mouth. I avoided returning the heavy gazes that Tweek and Token were sending at me, trying to pretend they weren't there. They don't know anything, and they don't have to.

"I don't want to bring that up," I said darkly.

And it was the truth. If we weren't at school, if no one else was around, then yes, maybe I would open it up for discussion. I know that Clyde has no intentions of telling other people, so it's safe.

But . . . it's not. Not with me. I'm afraid I'll let something slip. Not to other people, but to Clyde. Eh, it's not what you think!

Erm . . . yes, it probably is.

I'm afraid that if I ever talk to Clyde about it again, I'll drop hints about how it was . . . nice. And I don't mean that in the way of it feeling nice that I was helping him out. No, it was a different kind of nice. I'm not going to say anything straight-out, but I think you know what I mean.

Great, now this conversation is getting really uncomfortable. You can get out of my thoughts now.

"Then why _did _you?" he shot back.

"Because I didn't know what we were dealing with," I said in disgust, meaning Bebe.

He shot me the darkest look I've ever gotten from anybody.

"And what does that mean?" he growled.

"It means that I don't think she's worth it!" I yelled. If that sounds retarded, I don't care. I didn't have time to think of a better answer, so I just shot him in the head with a golden bullet of truth.

He rolled his eyes. "You're such a geek," he snorted. "It was only a stupid lab report."

I resisted the urge to find a gun and shoot him in the head with a real gold bullet, not just a golden bullet of truth. I stood up and grabbed Heidi's notebook off of the lunch table. Forget my lunch, Clyde can clean it up, the bastard.

"Yeah, well at least there's someone out there who's nice enough to care about what happens in _my _life," I hissed furiously at the self-centered sonuvabitch. That probably sounded weird too, especially to Tweek and Token, and Clyde probably didn't even know who the hell I was talking about. Like I care.

As I angrily stormed out of the cafeteria, I came to the realization that I really wanted to take back what had happened with me and Clyde. Now I feel like I have something huge to hide around him, and it makes me sad and a little angry that there's something we can never bring up again. And it shouldn't be blocking us from being friends-in fact, it should be the opposite, I have no doubt of that-but it is. It's really kind of a painful concept.

Another reason why I wish I could take it back is because . . . if it didn't happen, then maybe things could feel normal. Maybe _I _could feel a little normal again.

But I think it's only going to get worse from here.


	4. Chapter 4

**CHAPTER 4**

**A/N: **I should name this: the Really Choppy Chapter. That's pretty much what it is, and I apologize. I think it was pretty hard for me to piece this one together, because it's kind of a filler. I apologize for that as well. Also for the fact that it's a whole crapload of dialogue. I really will try to make it less in further chapters, because I'm pretty sure there aren't many people out there who like to read quotation after quotation. But the next few installments in the great Stolovan adventure should improve!

Also, just a random note: Queen and Journey greatly inspire me. I'm currently obsessed with Queen's "Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy." Cute, great song!

NOW, personal notes!

To Cupcake-Queen: I'm so happy, looking back on your review now, that we've become a little closer. I think it's really something special! I won't call us good friends yet, because I don't want to speak for you. I still consider us friends, though, and I hope you feel the same! w And I can't thank you enough for your one review, always special for being the first! 3

To Apfelbier: Thanks also for the review! I hope you continue to keep up with this story, it's still going! I really really really REALLY appreciate your feedback!

To Catherine, whom I hope is reading this: This story WILL be completed. I have no plans whatsoever on abandoning it. Stolovan is also one of my top pairings, and I'm going to see to it that there is a nice, long, complete Stolovan fic on here! I think I want it as much as YOU do! But, on a more unfortunate note, the update intervals will probably not be improving. My first two chapters were done quick because I had most of them pre-written in advance. And I'm still such a young person, and I can do very little to control my schedule and how much free time I have on my hands. Also my family shares one laptop, so I can't always work on it. And the next chapter might take an especially longer time to get written because I'm visiting family and friends in Japan this holiday season, so it's safe to assume that I won't get much done during that time. I'm really sorry and all, that you have to wait a long time for a new chapter that isn't even that great, but like I said, I can't control very much! Despite this, Catherine, I hope you continue to keep reading this, because this little butterfly needs as much support as it can possibly get. :)

To other readers, if you're out there: please leave a review if you have anything to say! You're comment will definitely be regarded in the next chapter, and anything is appreciated!

* * *

><p>Dammit. That's like, the eight time now that my lead has broken. I scowled and repeatedly pressed the top of my pencil to release more lead. I guess I was really under stress, and was writing too fast and too hard for my own good.<p>

Heidi had taken a lot of goddamn notes. My hand was getting cramps from writing so much. And I wasn't even writing _all _of it.

But damn. These were some _fine _notes.

I wish I could take awesome notes like this. She had every little detail in here! And not the abstract, filler-kind of details, but ones that were actually very relevant and helpful towards he data collection. It was really great and all, but . . . maybe not for my hand. I wish I was bi-handed, so I could flip flop between writing hands.

As I was slowly coming to the end of my (Heidi's) notes, I heard that one peculiar sound that always put me on edge.

_Bi-ding_!

I don't know why you can't close Skype. It is the most annoying thing. _Ever_. Especially when the most annoying _person _ever is bugging you endlessly on it.

For a second, I stopped writing and just sat there at my desk, not wanting to look up. I guess I was just really hoping that another message wouldn't pop up so I could just-

_Bi-ding_!

Okay, really? I sighed and put my pencil up.

Of course it was Clyde. Of course! Who else bugs Kevin Stoley with stupid bullshit?

_Hey man, whatcha doin_

I gazed at the screen with tired eyes.

_Trying to work. And ignore you._

I didn't bother picking up my pencil and going back to work. You just _can't _when Clyde's on Skype.

_Hahaha stop being a broody-pants_

Okay. Maybe it is possible. I immediately picked up my pencil and got back to work, without a single thought of replying.

I thought for a second that maybe he wouldn't reply.

_Bi-ding!_

But I mean, seriously. Who was I kidding?

_Did u kno that we r being assigned a proj tomorrow in ss?_

_Fascinating._

_Yea bro. So do u wanna b partners or wat_

I shook my head and said, "Nooooooo . . ." and typed in exactly that.

_Noooooooooo._

_Awh y bro? :'(_

_Because I don't want to be the one doing all the work._

_Ill do work. I promise_

_No. I'm not stupid. I'm not going to work with you, Clyde._

_Come on bro im like, ur only friend in that class anyway!_

I sat dumbfounded at my desk for a few seconds.

What's he talking about? He is _so _not my only friend there.

I have so many friends in that class.

I have so many goddamn friends in my fucking social studies class.

So many, many friends.

So many friends.

So many.

Friends.

So, so, so many-

I stood up abruptly. I walked out of my bedroom and into the bathroom, right across the hall. I stood in front of the mirror and looked myself in the eye.

I grabbed the edges and pulled myself forward, and banged my forehead against it.

"Goddammit I am such a fucking loser."

* * *

><p>I ended up being Clyde's partner after all. Because, you know; I just didn't feel like being partners with anybody else in that class. They were all my friends. They were being too friendly to me.<p>

"Whatever you pull out of this hat," began our teacher, Ms. Molitor, "will be you and your partner's essay prompt. And remember, you have to somehow tie it to Medieval Europe."

I sighed. If it's an essay, then it's a no-brainer to assume that I'll be doing all the work. Like I'm not used to it.

Ms. Molitor came around every one's desks, and since Clyde decided to sit behind me, I was going to be the one pulling the prompt out of the hat. With my luck, it'll probably be something terrible.

When she came around to me, I found myself feeling oddly scared. Like something really weird was going to happen as soon as I pulled a prompt out of the hat. Like, a huge chain of event would begin. It was one of the weirdest feelings ever.

Trying to shake it off nonetheless, I quickly reached into the hat and pulled out a prompt. I was feeling nervous now. It really wasn't making any sense.

I cautiously opened up the folded piece of paper.

Baking.

Our prompt was baking.

How the fuck are we supposed to write a whole entire essay on Medieval Europe baking? I mean, we can do it . . . but how can something like that possibly get us a good grade?

I felt Clyde tap my shoulder, and I turned to see him leaning over eagerly in his seat.

"What didja get?" he asked curiously, trying to read what the paper said from his seat.

With a frustrated feeling in my stomach, I handed it to him. And as soon as he read it, the eager smile dropped from his face.

"Baking?" he read out loud. "That is _so _lame."

I snatched it back.

"Not like the prompt matters to you anyway," I shot at him. I turned around in my seat and faced front.

"What?" he asked. He lightly shook my shoulder and put his face by my ear. "What do you mean?"

I clenched my jaw. "Figure it out," I said bluntly.

He paused and then slowly sat back in his chair. There was silence between us (oh my, Clyde? Silence?) as Ms. Molitor continued handing out prompts, and a puzzled Clyde tried to decipher what I had just told him. Too bad it wouldn't last very-

"Awh hey, no," Clyde cooed, grabbing my shoulder again and leaning over his desk to talk to me in a quiet voice. When he spoke it sent shivers down my spine, and made me want to cover my ears and run. Only because it tickled. "I know what you mean now. And I promise I'll do work!"

I don't know why I wasn't swatting his face away from my ear like the fat fly he is. I just let him sit there and say stupid things to me. I could've at least slap his hand away. But I didn't.

"No you won't," was all I said to him. For some reason, I couldn't come up with anything better to say.

He began to drum his fingers on my shoulder, which began to agitate me. Still, I didn't push him off.

"I made a promise to you, bro," he said heartily. I rolled my eyes. "And Donovans keep promises."

I sighed. I finally brushed his hand off of my shoulder and slumped back into my seat. I don't know why I couldn't just do that before.

"Whatever, Clyde," I replied, breathing out tiredly.

I didn't say anything, but Clyde's promise statement was the worst lie I have ever heard.

LINEBREAK

I dropped Heidi's journal on her desk before I sat down in my seat across from her.

"Thanks so much," I told her, grinning. "You really saved my ass there."

She smiled. "Did you get everything you needed?"

I began storing my things under the desk as I replied, "Yeah, definitely. You take awesome notes by the way," I told her. "They helped so much."

"It's not a problem," she said, turning back to her desk. Her lively and cheerful tone faltered as she added, "Let's just say we're even now. For anything that might happen . . . in the future."

Confused, I glanced up at her. She had one finger on her journal, slowly spinning it around on her desk with a lost look in her eyes.

Before I could ask what she meant, our teacher instructed us to take out our notes and lab reports. Class was starting.

* * *

><p>I didn't talk much at lunch. The whole business with Clyde and Bebe had started again, and the rest of us kind of shifted to the other end of the table. I didn't see Heidi anywhere. I didn't try to look for her, either. I had kind of just got the feeling that even if I did seek her out, she wouldn't explain what she had said in Tech class. It was all so fishy.<p>

The lunch passed by normally. Token listened to music through his Beats headphones, but was chatting with everyone at the same time. Even the weird kids, or ones he didn't know. Such a good man.

Tweek was sitting next to Token, hunched over, eating his lunch rather nervously. He reminded me of a cold bunny. Maybe like the one I had seen that one morning . . .

Bleh. I don't like to dwell on the past.

Craig was next to me. If I was blind, I would still be able to tell if Craig was next to me or not. He smells. Not a bad smell, no. But he constantly smells like Sharpie and whatever kind of cologne he uses. Since he's one of those guys who keep their backpack on all day, he always has his Sharpies with him. When he's having a really bad day, it irritates my nose because of how much Sharpie nonsense he's scribbling all over himself. I don't get why he does that all the time.

Well, I actually dunno about that. Maybe it's that one thing that he does to remember things. He writes on his arms about what he's feeling, or what he wants to remember later on. Maybe that's his thing. Token has a classy little flip-note thing he carries in his back pocket along with his phone and wallet, and I know he writes down stuff in there. Tweek has thick rubber bands that he puts around his wrists with reminders written with pen on them. I think that's pretty nifty.

Clyde doesn't have a system. He doesn't remember shit. Ever.

And me? Well, you know mine by now. My sticky notes on my computer.

_Clyde's a fucking idiot._

_ He's making me find a date._

_ He's going to make me fail my classes._

My sticky notes usually help me remember the _important things_. Ha. Ha.

"You seem lost, Stoley."

I snapped myself back into focus and looked around to see who said that.

"Is something on your mind?"

I stared at Craig. He was smirking triumphantly at how startled I was. Forcing myself to relax, I glanced away from him.

"Yeah, kinda."

"Obviously."

Now I was just confused. For like, the hundredth time today. I looked back at him. "Huh?"

"You never let other people know something's bugging you," he said, his smirk gone, replaced with something that was somewhat concern. "I'm a little more observant than you think, Kevin."

This time I turned my whole head away from him. He's probably right. Craig's always good at reading people, anyway.

"Oh." I looked at my lunch, unblinking. "You've got me there."

"So," he said, leaning in a little closer. "You gonna tell me what's up?"

I didn't have to think before slowly shaking my head. "No."

He chuckled and turned back towards his lunch, too. "So now that I've mentioned it, you go and close yourself up again."

I shifted uneasily. Craig doesn't like to read _books_, but he sure is good at reading _people_.

He quickly patted my arm and smiled. "Whatever you do, you know you can talk to me." He gathered up his lunch and began to leave. "Catch you later, Stoley."

I watched him go, and he thumped a peace sign over his heart before spinning around and retreating. Sometimes I wish I could be as carefree as Craig.

I smelled sweet perfume, and then a nudge on the shoulder. I turned to my left and saw Clyde's back, and his hand waving as Bebe left. I inched myself away from him.

"Oh man, this dance is gonna be the _shit_," Clyde said, finally turning around to face me. "Bebe and I were just now talking about our matching outfits."

I stared at him. "We need to dress?" I asked in despair. I wasn't going to say much about him and Bebe, because I didn't want him to go on and on and on about her. I just wanted to avoid bringing her up.

He just stared right back. "Are you serious right now?" he asked in disbelief. He rolled his eyes over dramatically. "It's pretty much a _Christmas dance, _Kevin_._ Of course you need to dress up!"

I felt slightly sick. "And it's in three days, huh," I said bleakly.

"Yeah. Friday."

I looked up from my lunch and met his hazel eyes with my blue ones. I I bet looked like I was going to say something really important, because I took notice of the expectant gleam in his eyes. I think he was holding his breath a little, too. I don't know how you hold your breath a little, but it seemed like that's what he was doing. He was probably hoping I was going to suggest something like, "hey Clyde, wanna pick out my outift?" or maybe "we should shop for stuff _together_!" Nope; not a chance.

I opened my mouth to say something and his eyes subtly widened. Hehehe. Sucker. I closed my mouth and shrugged helplessly, and immediately his posture deflated and his eyes lost interest.

"I guess I just have to pull something together then, don't I?" I said, trying not to grin with malicious self-satisfaction.

It was Clyde's turn to sigh this time. "Ugh, Kevin, you're absolutely hopeless."

I snickered. "And you're definitely a hypocrite."

He narrowed his eyes for a second, but then grinned and punched me playfully in the shoulder.

"You asshole," he said loftily. He laughed. I didn't. He started to unwrap the Chalupa thing he had brought for lunch and took a huge bite. I don't know what the hell happened to losing weight. "So anyways, what are we going to do for this project?"

It pleased me that he used _we_, but I know that meant absolutely nothing. I wonder if I started using I if he would notice it and stop to correct me.

"Well, I was thinking I should just look into it a little, first," I said as nonchalantly as I could. I could not let him see past my facade. He could not know I was scheming against him.

"Oh, yeah, that's probably a good start," he said casually. Strike one, Donovan.

"And maybe later, I'll type up a quick essay on it. It shouldn't take me _too _long," I said, trying to put effort on the _too _to make me seem modest. And to see if it distracted him from the _me_s and _I_s.

Much to my surprise, he smiled and wiggled a finger at my face. "You mean us?"

Huh, only one strike. That's pretty impressive, I must admit.

"Remember what I said, Kevin. I'm doing this project, too. No matter what kind of crazy work you wanna do." He took another bite of his Chalupa and munched thoughtfully. "It's both of our project. A bro can't leave a bro hangin'."

I couldn't help but smile a little. Only a little. "Heh. I guess the work can't get _too _complicated, then."

He made a face at me, and then swallowed. "You know what I had in mind?"

I shrugged. "Shoot."

"I was thinking," he began, putting his lunch down and turning to me. "Since my mom is Dutch, right? Well, I've seen a few cookbooks in the pantry, and I thought maybe we could bake some things from there! And I dunno, maybe bring them to class or something."

There was a pause between us as he waited for my reply. I was considering his idea. After a moment, I said doubtfully, "I already see a few flaws in your plan,"

He snorted. "Fine. Like what."

"Well, the recipes in there probably aren't going to be _medieval _Dutch recipes, Clyde." All in all, I thought the idea seemed okay, but I actually wanted to get a good grade on this thing. "Besides, she's grading us on our report."

"Then we aren't going to have any fun," he mumbled disappointingly.

"It's not supposed to be fun; it's a report," I pointed out.

"We could still have fun, if we tried," he protested.

"No. If you're going to work with me, then you should know that we're going to be taking it seriously," I said.

Clyde blew a raspberry and then said, "Bo-ring!"

"Whatever, Clyde," I grumbled. "This is probably like, our last big grade for the semester. Be prepared to work your ass off."

"Ugh," he said spitefully. "This is gonna suck. We should just cook stuff."

I shrugged. Not like we could cook good, anyway. If we made something, it would probably turn out like burn jelly. At least, that's how I expect it'd turn out. I don't know if Clyde's good at baking or not. I know I'm not. Well, actually, I don't know. I guess I just don't cook too often, so I can't say anything.

After I saw that our conversation had come to an end, I slowly started eating my lunch again. A few seconds had passed before I realized that Clyde hadn't started eating again, and was still turned towards me. I don't think he was looking at me though, or else I wouldv'e gotten that shiver-y feeling that I get when people are watching me.

". . . Kevin?"

I swallowed and looked at him. His eyes were cast down. "Uh, what?"

There was an uncomfortable pause, and he shifted uneasily.

"How did . . . how did your tech report go?"

Oh. Oh _wow_. I can't even-just _wow_. So, he cares a little, after all.

That's cool, I guess.

Before I could stop them, small snippets of memories from _that afternoon_ shot through my mind like a preview for a horror movie. I pushed them away.

"It went fine," I told him quickly, probably to his surprise.

He looked up. "It did?"

I nodded. "Yeah. No thanks to you, though."

He looked to the side. "Oh. Um, yeah. I'm still real-"

I waved him off. "It's okay. Heidi let me use her notes."

He smiled a little, relieved. "That's cool. Heidi's nice, isn't she?"

"Yep," I replied. I saw his smile get a little bigger.

At first I didn't think about it. I just assumed he was happy because me and Heidi got along, which I thought was real nice of him. But before his smile vanished, I detected self-satisfaction in it. He wasn't happy because me and her were friends. It was something else . . .

Heidi and Bebe's strange scene the other day. Did Clyde have something to do with it?

"Why did you say that?" I asked, my tone suddenly changing.

He seemed taken aback for a second. "B-Because she is, isn't she?"

I faltered. Was that really all he had been implying? "Well, yeah, but I mean . . ." I trailed off. I was unable to finish. Clyde was staring at me, eyes glowing with bemusement. I shut my mouth. I was jumping to really far conclusions.

The lunch bell rang, and Clyde stood up quickly. Too quickly, and he looked oddly relieved. Nothing slips past my observing eyes!

"Clyde!" I snapped, standing up and grabbing his shoulder before he fled. "I need to talk to you!"

"Uh, not now! After school, okay?" he said nervously, taking my hand off of his shoulder. He began to snake his way through the mob of students, getting farther and farther away from me. "After school, when we're working on our project!"

He vanished before I could say anymore. I sighed. It was no use trying to pursue him. I would get nothing out of him, and he would most likely slip out of my grasp like he had just now.

* * *

><p>I could approach her without a problem, right? C'mon, just do it. All she did was leave you absolutely befuddled (please read that out loud with a lisp, and imagine yourself as the Disney Mad-Hatter)* in tech class when she said whatever she said, which sounded totally important and depressing and dramatic, yet you decided not to question.<p>

Yeah. Just do it. And don't bring that one thing up.

Also, don't say, "I was about to ask you the same thing."

I walked up to her, at her locker. When she saw I had approached, she quickly tucked her hairbrush away and grabbed her bag, then shut her locker. Sheesh, it's just me.

"Uh, hi, Kevin!" she said brightly. Totally unlike what she sounded like in tech.

"Hi," I replied, slowly, to show her that no one was riding a crazy train here. "I was wondering, if you were doing anything after school tomorrow?"

She smiled and replied, "I was about to ask you the same thing!"

"Dammit," I said immediately. Wait, she said that, not me.

"Huh?" she asked, puzzled, and I think a little hurt.

"Sorry. Um, go on," I told her, embarrassed. She didn't look convinced, so I made an encouraging hand motion and added, "Please."

"Uh, alright, but you were the one who was going to ask her something," she said, making me feel like an idiot.

"Fuck, was I?" I asked. Jesus, why am I having such goddamn hard time talking to her today? "My bad."

She peered at me. ". . . Kevin? Are you okay?"

Oh gee, I'm not so sure. Really.

But one thing I _am _sure about is that the girl who was saying depressing prophetic stuff in tech class over a book of notes somehow concerning our future _should not be asking me that_.

"I was abo-" I began. I caught myself. "No I wasn't. I was not about to ask you the same thing."

She laughed a little at this. Or, I think she did. Either that, or she puked in her mouth a little. The latter, most likely.

"Uh. Well. Anyway," I started, trying to speak or think normally. I was not yet ready to combine the two, I don't think. "I was wondering if you wanted to go shopping."

Heh. That didn't sound gay at all. Stop getting these ridonculous ideas, Stoley.

"Shopping?" she repeated, her tone sprinkled with interest.

"Yeah. Cause, you know, we need like, matching outfits for the dance and stuff."

"Ohhh, yeah!" she said in sudden realization. She smiled. "Sure! That sounds like fun."

"Okay, cool. And you don't need to bring any money; I'll cover it."

She shook her head profusely. "Oh, no, don't do that. I have money. You don't need to spend your money."

I laughed. "No, don't. I was going to take money from my mom's wallet anyway."

"No! Don't take you're mom's money," she said, laughing along. "That's messed up."

I shrugged. "She won't care."

"Really? She won't?"

I shrugged again. "Nah. I lied. She will. A lot."

She laughed again. "Then don't. I have money, and I don't mind buying bargain clothes."

"Well, I dunno. I think if I told her that I spent it on a _girl_, she might give me lots more." I smiled at the oh-so-pleasant thought of telling my mom that. She'd be pinching my cheeks again. "But then again, she'd want proof. You'd probably have to have dinner some time if we want it to work."

She smirked. "Whatever works, Kevin. Whatever works."

I grinned. "Alright, I'll figure something out." I began to walk backwards, and then waved. "See you tomorrow."

She waved back. "Bye!"

I turned around and went to find Clyde.

Question.

Am I supposed to hug her when I leave?

* * *

><p>"No, Clyde, let's not."<p>

"Please? It's just around the corner! it won't hurt!"

No, no, just NO.

"Clyde. We are not supposed to bake for this project. We are supposed to _write _about baking."

"Well where's the fun in that?" he asked, making a pout face.

"That's the point!" I said loudly, stopping abruptly in front of him and making him shrink back. "There _is _no fun involved! It's a report!"

He frowned, and I turned around and resumed walking. "I don't know why you wanted to work with me in the first place," I muttered.

" . . . Because I want to make it up to you."

I stopped. I didn't turn around, though.

"Excuse me."

"You heard right."

That's when I reluctantly turned around and looked at him. He stood there, just as defiantly as I was.

"And why do you want to do that."

He scuffed his shoes around in the thin layer of snow on the sidewalk, and looked up thoughtfully into the sky, squinting one eye.

"Uhh, I dunno. Can you think of a reason?"

I bit my lip. I narrowed my eyes, and he looked back at me.

"I sure can," I said quietly.

He shrugged and displayed a childish grin. "I guess that's it, then."

I cocked my head to the side. "Has the holiday season been making you feel more generous than usual?"

He chuckled and walked up to me, and slung his heavy arm over my weak shoulders. "Nah. It's just this feeling called guilt. It's been eating at me for a little while."

"Must be new," I remarked. Pretty clever, am I right?

"Ah, stop it," he said, laughing. "It's not _new_. I just haven't seen it in a while."

"Tch, of _course_," I said dramatically. "Now get your arm off my shoulder."

He snorted at my quick change of tone. "This is what bros do, Kevin. Get used to it."

I kept quiet for the rest of the way (it was short) to my house. And not because I was mad. The opposite, really. We kinda just walked like that, making the occasional joke or comment.

And god fucking dammit, whaddya know. I didn't know what the hell my feelings were doing. It was incredibly retarded. I was pretty happy, first off. But that made me mad. Because it wasn't just happy, it was that _pleasant, peaceful, content_ happy. From . . . watching the sunset, y'know? And well, I was mad, because I was feeling it with Clyde! So my fate was set, it seemed.

I was happy. I was content. I was pissed off. I wanted to bust Clyde's head open. I wanted to _cry_. I wanted to get my feelings prioritized.

He finally pulled his arm off was we were walking up the steps to my house. As I opened the door and we stepped in, I smelled something sweet and salty, and heard the sound of something being sauteed or stir-fried. Must be my mom making late lunch for herself.

"Kevin, is that you?" she called over the noise.

"Yeah," I called back, kind of annoyed to hear her voice already.

"And Clyde!" he piped up excitedly. We kicked off our shoes and sauntered past the kitchen entrance, where my mom stepped out and gave Clyde a hug.

"Ah, Clyde! Good to see you again," she crooned, trying to be all nice and motherly. She padded him on the back.

"Damn, it smells _fine _in here," Clyde remarked, eyeing the food on the stove.

My mom grinned and tossed out her hand. "Oh, stop! It's just a quick snack."

I rolled my eyes. I turned Clyde towards the stairs and began to push him up them.

"Go upstairs now. I'll bring up snacks," I told him. he began to say something, but I shoved him and made him stumble, and he just continued onward.

When I went back into the kitchen, my mom had a hand on her hip as she stirred the contents of the pan*.

"Don't push you're friends away when they're complementing my cooking," she said jokingly.

I opened up the side pantry and snatched the Oreos. Before I left, I pointed an accusing finger at her. "Did you hear what you just said? _Friends_. Yeah, I have friends!" I walked out of the kitchen, and then popped my head back in for a quick second to add, "Your argument is invalid!"

I heard her sigh from the kitchen as I trotted up the stairs. Yes, I know I'm a hopeless case in her eyes. In anyone's eyes, really. Even my own.

I got up to my bedroom and found Clyde pacing slowly in front of my computer, tossing my small penguin plush back and forth in his hands.

"Oh, hey. Oreos," he said, tossing the penguin back on my bed to hold the Oreos instead. Before I could even put my backpack down, he had gotten halfway through one.

"Sheesh, someone skipped breakfast," I mumbled.

"No I didn't," he said, puzzled. My eyebrows went up and I shut my eyelids for a second in recognition of his stupidity.

"Alright, let's get started," I announced after placing my backpack on my bed and turning around to face him.

"Computer?" he asked, mouth half-filled with cookie.

"Not with those hands," I retorted, glancing at his fingers that were dotted with black cookie crumbs. He sheepishly wiped them on his jeans. I walked to my desk and sat down in my chair, and jabbed at a few screens to wake the computer up.

"Where do I sit?" Clyde asked, glancing around.

"You can stand," I suggested.

"Do you really have no other chairs?" he asked in disappointment.

"Most people only have one chair in their room."

"Token has like twenty."

"I don't know if you've realized this or not, but I'm not exactly as rich as Token."

"I'm just saying . . ." he said quietly.

"If you really want, you can put the lid on the hamper in the bathroom and sit on that," I said appreciatively.

He sighed. "It's okay, I'll just stand."

As my desktop came up, I realized in alarm that my sticky notes were still up in the corner. Hoping he didn't yet have a chance to see the one about him, I quickly closed it.

"What was that?" he asked.

Dammit. "Nothing. Just some junk from last year."

While we waited for the programs to clear up, Clyde started to eat another Oreo. He handed one to me.

"Start eating. You're making me feel fat over here."

I smiled and bit into my Oreo and opened it up. You know, maybe this project will be a _little _fun.

***The original, loopy, crazy Disney Mad-Hatter. I don't know, I just found myself saying "absolutely befuddled" and it really reminded me of him. Puts more humor in the story. Maybe.**

***And no, his mom doesn't use a wok. Just a regular pan.**

**PWEASE REVIEW OR SOMETHING**


	5. Chapter 5

**CHAPTER 5**

**A/N: **This chapter's a little bit of a shift in the story, and character developments. Also, there are lyrics near the middle, so if you are the person who hates reading song lyrics in stories ( I understand), then feel free to skip over it. I put linebreaks to label (see how nice I am!). But still, I'd recommend reading them, because they're sweet lyrics, and kind of give you a better view on what's going on here. And you should also listen to the song, because the artist has great music, and you might know them anyway.

The end gets pretty poetic, lemme warn you! Hopefully it's a good shift for our stressed little Kev-Kev here.

Personal notes!

To il: Thanks for the kind, informative review! I'm glad that the plot has been suspenseful so far, and that you are enjoying the story. And I like to add cute parts, so there could be some more later. Who knows? And I'm afraid it'll be a couple more thousand words until you find out what _really_ happens next...!

To Soapy Tucker: I'm glad that you are also enjoying this! And I think you will find Clyde also being very cute in this chapter~~

* * *

><p>The evening spent with Clyde was not nearly as disastrous as I had expected.<p>

All in all, it actually went okay.

For a while, we just studied normally, using different websites to research. When it was a little after six, I went to the bathroom, and when I came back, he had a bunch of quiz websites opened up, and was doing one after the other. He would've probably went on . . . _other _sites, but he knew that I would kick his ass if he ever got into that stuff on my computer.

"Oh, looks like my starter Pokemon would be Bulbasaur," he said at the precise moment when I came back into my room. He spun around in my chair and looked at me. "You try!"

"Clyde, we're doing work," I told him, walking over to my screen. I looked at all the tabs he had opened up. "Did you close our research tab?"

"No, it's right here, you silly," he said, positioning the lightsaber cursor over one of the tabs.

"Oh, good, so let's-" I began. He barely twitched his finger, and then the tab disappeared. "Gah, Clyde!"

"Oops, my finger slipped," he said obtrusively with a trollish grin. "Now you'll be forced to take-" he started to add, but was cut off as I put my hand in his face and shoved him out of my chair.

"Oh my god Clyde you're a total fuckass," I sighed, as he slowly got up.

"Sheesh, all this studying was just getting boring, that's all," he replied, his tone distraught. He stood up, rubbing his butt. "Ow."

I sighed as I tried to find the same website we were on. There was a moment of awkward silence as Clyde stood next to me, watching what I did on my computer. I could see in the screen's reflection that he was shifting his gaze from my hands at the keyboard, the screen, and my vexed expression.

Without warning, he swiftly leaned in and pressed the power button on my monitor. At first I flinched, but then regained my calm when I remembered that it only shut off the monitor. I gritted my teeth, and reached out to press it again, but he slapped my hand away. I quickly spun my head and glared at him.

He stood there with his hands stiffly at his side, blinking nonchalantly.

I sighed and rolled my head back towards the screen, and reached for the button again. I pressed it, and the monitor lit up again, but then he turned it off again faster than I could blink.

"Would you stop it?" I barked angrily.

He blinked. "I want to bake."

I stared at him. "_You want to bake_?"

He hesitated before answering. "I think we should. You and me. We should bake something."

I smirked. "Do you want to bake something that has to do with medieval Europe?"

He glanced sideways for a moment, then back at me. "Did they have chocolate-chip pancakes in medieval Europe?"

I shook my head. "No Clyde. They did not."

"Then no."

I peered at him. "Do you know how to make pancakes?"

He stuck his hands in his pockets and leaned forward and back, with his eyes looking up in thought. "Mmm, no," he said after a moment's pause. "But I'm sure we can figure it out."

He spun me around in my chair and grabbed my wrists, and tugged on them. "Up up up, get up, Kevin!" he prompted.

After a moment's consideration, I stood up. I mean, what harm could it do? Just a break from all this researching. And, I didn't say it to him, but baking pancakes actually sounded like a lot of fun.

"Fine, we can try it," I said, surrendering to his pleading.

"Yes!" he exclaimed, jerking me up so that I was standing shakily and vulnerably on my feet. He went behind me and put his palms on my back and propelled my forward. "This is gonna be sweet!"

We tripped a few times going down the stairs, partly because I would go slow and make him push harder, and then take the pressure off, and he would fall forward. It was funny. Too bad my stairs weren't any longer.

In the kitchen, his hands dropped, we stopped laughing and I turned around. We looked at each other.

I cocked my head. " . . . Do you know what ingredients we need?"

"No idea."

I put my hands on my waist, and then blew out full cheeks of air. "Welp. Let's get started then!"

We strode over to the pantry and looked inside for various ingredients that we might need. I grabbed a container full of flour. He grabbed the sugar and the chocolate chips. We placed them on the counter, and then went to the fridge.

We stared at the chilled contents for a moment.

"What should we use?" he asked.

"I'm pretty sure we need milk," I said slowly, still thinking. "And eggs." I reached into the fridge and grabbed the jug of milk, and swiped a couple eggs from the carton.

"Do we need anything else?" Clyde asked, still standing at the fridge.

"Uh, I dunno; do we?" I called back, placing the things gently on the counter with the rest of our gathered ingredients.

He shrugged. "I guess not," he said simply. He grabbed the fridge handle. Right before he shut it, he exclaimed, "Oh, the butter! Can't forget the butter!" He quickly turned around and grabbed a full box of butter from its spot next to the eggs.

When he came to place them on the counter, I told him, "Get the measuring stuff from that drawer," I pointed to the drawer in question. "I'll get spoons."

I searched a few drawers before finding the baking spoons, and I heard him messing around with the measuring utensils.

As I stood there, a strange and sudden thought struck me: _what am I doing?_

I pushed it away immediately. This was fun.

I grabbed three large spoons-one for me, him, and dropping the batter into the pan-and closed the drawer, and then again placed them on the counter. He noisily put the metal measuring cups right next to them, and we stood back, admiring our progress so far.

"Now," I began, looking everything over. "Now we need to find how much we use."

There was a pause, and briefly, no one spoke.

Then, probably in a burst of inspiration, Clyde clapped his hands and announced, "To the mixer!"

We idiotically sauntered over to the Cuisinart mixer and plugged it in, and spent a few empty-headed minutes trying to figure out how it works. I think if we were concentrating and taking things seriously, then we would've figured it out in under a minute. But we weren't.

Clyde and I had to move all the ingredients so that they were closer to the mixer, so that's what we did next. We opened up the flour, and I scooped up a cup of it and held it over the metal mixer bowl.

"How much do you think we should put?" I asked him.

He shrugged. "Two cups, maybe?"

I peered into the bowl. "That seems like a lot."

He grinned. "Well, we want a lot of pancakes, don't we?"

I grinned too, and dumped the cup of flour into the bowl, and then another. He cracked the eggs and they fell in, and I dumped a generous amount of sugar. He began to unwrap the butter, and I dumped a half-cup of milk into the mix. When I was done, he dropped one stick, two sticks, three sticks of butter into the mix.

He was about to add the fourth when I interrupted, "Isn't that a lot of butter?"

He dropped the last stick in and charismatically licked his lips. "I _like _butter."

So, with all the needed ingredients in the bowl, I switched it on to level one.

We watched the ingredients slowly churning, and Clyde said, "That's too slow. It's not mixing."

I brought it to level two, but it still wouldn't mix.

"It's that butter, man," I told him. "We need to melt it, I think. Or soften it."

"Okay, let's stop it then," Clyde said. I put the mixer to a stop, and got a bowl from a cupboard. Clyde delicately picked the butter sticks from the mix, and placed them, coated with flour and all, into the bowl. We moved them to the microwave, and Clyde punched in one minute.

"That'll burn it or something," I warned before he hit START.

"You can't burn stuff in microwaves," he retorted.

"Yes you can."

"Well, not butter."

Thirty seconds in, the microwave was starting to crackle, and the kitchen was filled with the warming scent of butter.

"Heh, I think it's past melted," Clyde commented. I quickly hit stop, and buttery steam wafted above our heads when I opened the microwave. I tried to grab the dish, but it burned my fingertips instead.

"Ow, damn," I hissed, pulling my fingers away. I grabbed an oven mitt from above the stove and proceeded to handle the butter with that.

Clyde was right. The bowl was filled with liquefied butter. I poured it into the mix anyway.

Clyde waited for me to put the bowl and oven mitt down and stand next to him in front of the mixer, with his hand on the lever. On my nod, he turned it on, but he pushed it too far, and small globs of it went flying.

I shut my eyes instinctively and flinched away, and Clyde shut it off. He was laughing, which made me laugh too, and I opened my eyes.

"Oh god, I'm sorry!" he said, laughing.

"It's fine," I reassured him, also laughing. I cautiously peered over the rim of the bowl, and saw that the contents had already been mixed pretty well from the outburst.

Clyde quickly but gently swiped his thumb across my cheek, and I glanced up in surprise.

"You had some batter," he explained sheepishly. He quickly licked it off his thumb.

"Oh." I didn't say anything else. I just turned the mixer on to level three.

We both watched it mix, neither of us saying a word. I think we both started to lose ourselves in our thoughts, because my eyes went blank, and I don't think Clyde was really keeping an eye on the mix, either.

Ohhh, boy was there a lot on my mind. It's not like I've been hunkering down on all my thoughts all day, but I know they're there. In fact, it's probably the exact opposite of that. I know they're there, and I'm really trying to avoid going over them.

I'm the kind of person that likes to start with the small, avertable things. So, um, where should I start . . .

Welp. Nothing going on right now is small and avertable, to my displeasure.

So then, I guess we can start on what's bugging me the least.

Oh, wait. That won't work, either. Everything's bugging me equally.

So let's start with what's currently on my mind. Right this very moment.

It might be hard to guess. I'll give you a hint: it starts with a C.

God, everything about him. The way he carries on conversation, the way you know when he's studying you from the corner of his eye, the way his laugh is so contagious. The way he's so willing to let you into his life. The way he annoys the living shits out of me. Just everything about him and how he turns my days upside down.

And don't get the wrong riff-I never said any of this was a bad thing. I'm not complaining here. Just reflecting.

I probably would've been complaining, maybe a week ago. But spending more time with him has made me realize how much I'm forgetting to do in my life. I'm even glad that he gets me angry, because I've been forgetting to do that, too. I don't care if he makes me mad anymore. All I care about is that he makes me _feel_. I haven't been doing that lately. He makes me feel peaceful, like the sunrise. He makes me aware, makes me remember. He's why I started using those sticky notes, despite what they might say about him. He's building bridges from me to society.

But that's another thing entirely. Heidi, for instance. He kind of structured the bridge that now links us. And I know something's up, I know it, and I know there's no way around it. _Something is up_. And I know Clyde and Bebe are involved, and I can only hope that nothing wrong is happening.

"I think that's done," he said heartily, snapping me out of my trance. I blinked multiple times as he reached to turn the mixer off and lift the bowl out of its place. I followed him rather numbly as he moved the mix to the stove to start cooking.

I blankly handed him his spoon and the larger one, and he whipped the batter a little more before lifting the pan off the hook above the stove and placing it on the smaller heating surface. He was half-smiling, and I heard him humming a tune to something. The song sounded rather slow and hearty, contrary to one of those stupid radio songs he's usually humming.

I could only wonder about what he was thinking. Was he thinking thoughts similar to mine? About how I'm changing his life? . . . Probably not. I'm not even sure if I AM changing his life or not. And if I am, I don't think he's taken the time to notice it.

That's a shame, really.

"What do I turn it to?" he asked. I blinked and tried to focus on the cooking. He was patiently waiting for my suggestion, his fingers on the dial.

"Uhm, I dunno, try medium," I told him.

"Okay," he replied, turning the knob so that it pointed at medium. He started humming that nice song again.

As his hand hovered above the pan, feeling for heat, I tried to think without spacing out. He looked oddly cheerful, his head cocked to the side, slightly grinning, tapping his right foot along to the tune of whatever song he was humming. Do I ever look like that? Seemingly happy for no reason? I doubt it . . . I'm probably always looking the opposite. Seemingly angry for no reason.

Maybe he realized that he has a mission? To make Kevin be part of the world again? Or something bigger? Or something he wants to do for himself, to be a good person or something. Maybe he's just trying to get on my good side so I can give him more homework and stuff. If that's it, it's already working. He got me to be his partner on this, and we're not even working!

I'm over analyzing him.

He's not plotting to ruin my academic life, is he? I must be goin insane.

He's not doing anything wrong. He's just being Clyde.

And to think I thought he was scheming. Ludicrous ideas.

"D'you want me to pour some batter in now?" he asked. I realized that I had spaced out _little _this time, but only a little. I was aware enought to immediately realize when he started to speak to me.

I almost said yes, but then I glanced at the mix. Smooth and creamy. "No, wait," I told him. I turned around and went to the counter and grabbed the bag of chocolate chips. "We can't forget these!"

I tore the bag open and poured half of it into the batter, and then mixed it some more with my own spoon. When the chips were evenly distributed, I grinned.

"Okay, you should do it now."

"Alright, let's hope they come out good," he said readily, dipping the deep spoon into the mix and pouring two spoonfuls into the pan.

We watched for about a minute, and it began to sizzle and bubble, and the chocolate had softened and became a little melty. But the pancake had not risen yet.

"Why's it still flat?" Clyde asked, reading my mind.

"Maybe it just hasn't cooked long enough," I suggested, although doubtfully. He frowned a little at our flat pancake, but then picked up that melody and began humming again.

"I think it's going to burn if we leave it in there much longer," I said, opening a drawer to my right and pulling out a spatula. I handed it to him, and he handed me his two spoons, which I laid on the counter next to the mixing bowl.

He shrugged, taking my word for it, even though the batter had not risen. I went to retrieve a plate from the cupboard, and he slid the spatula under the flat pancake and then dropped it onto the plate. He stopped humming.

The thing looked more like a chocolate chip _crepe_. It was flat and pretty thin, and the chips had melted into liquid, just like the rest of the batter.

"What . . . what happened?" he asked as we stared, dumbfounded, at our sad attempt at a pancake.

"We forgot _something_," I said, trying to figure out what it could be. I had never really made pancakes without the help of my mom before, and I couldn't identify what had gone wrong.

"Well, the real test is taste," he said optimistically, ripping off a hunk of the crepe. With a wish-me-luck kind of look, he popped it into his mouth and chewed. He furrowed his brow thoughtfully as he tasted it, and finally swallowed. "It's good," he said.

"It is?" I asked, utterly surprised. But, who knows; our two definitions of _good _could be worlds apart.

He nodded. "Yeah, it's really flat, but it still _tastes _like a good pancake." He tore off another piece, and I thought he was going to eat more, but then he held it up to me. "Try it!"

Since I was using both hands to hold the plate, he neatly rolled up the piece and popped it into my mouth. And he was right: it _was _good.

"Myeah, that's yummy," I said happily.

He smiled. "Yummy enough to make more!"

We quickly got to work, whipping out more crepe-things, as I had gotten my own pan and we could make them twice as fast. The whole time we were cooking, he was humming that song. The tune sounded so farmiliar, yet I knew I had never heard it before.

When the batter was all gone, it was almost six-thirty, and we had a stack of flat pancakes that sat about half a foot tall. I brought them, along with two napkins, to the small table in the corner of the kitchen, under the window. It was already quite dark outside, but I could see the thick snowflakes softly falling outside.

As we sat down to eat, he stopped humming to grab a flat pancake-a flatcake-and roll it up like a tortilla. He took a bite and munched hungrily, while I studied mine for a second. I was trying to analyze what ingredient we had left out.

"You know what it was?" I asked rhetorically. "I bet it was baking powder."

"Baking powder?" Clyde repeated, puzzled.

I nodded. "Yeah. I'm no cook, but I'm pretty sure that's what fluffs 'em up. Baking powder."

He nodded thoughtfully, as if it was the most interesting thing he'd ever heard. "We need to remember that next time, then."

I nodded shallowly in agreement. My attention had been drawn to the window, where I was watching the snow fall gently outside. It made me wonder if the roads we be clear enough to go shopping with Heidi tomorrow. It would be different if I had some 4-wheel drive like Clyde, but my little Buick can't handle slick roads. I don't even _want _to go shopping tomorrow. Whatever. I guess I do need something decent to wear anyhow.

I heard him pick up that tune yet again. I turned to him.

"What song is that?" I finally asked, seeing that nothing else was going to be said.

He swallowed. "Ha, I assumed that you knew the song because you never asked," he said, grinning. "It's um, by this band called Foster the People. It's called I Would Do Anything For You."

"Oh, no. I've never heard it." I answered sincerely. I took a bite from my flatcake. It sounded like a nice song, but one of those corny romance songs at the same time. If Clyde was humming it, it was probably the latter.

"Here, you wanna listen to it?" he asked, reaching under the table and into his pocket. He pulled out his iPod a second later and unwound the earbuds and offered one to me.

I took one. I was curious to hear the song he had been humming the whole time we had been cooking. When the song started playing, he looked down at his flatcake and started tapping his fingers to the words.

* * *

><p><em>Never wanna stand up for myself<em>

_Never wanna get in the way, I said it_

_I don't know what the plan it,_

_But you can share with me,_

'_Cause I'll be listening here,_

_To everything you say, I won't turn away_

_And I will listen, open up my heart and_

_I must say that I love you, so_

_Ooh la love, I've fallen in love, and it's better this time_

_Than ever before_

_Ooh la love, I've fallen in love, and it's better this time_

_Than I've ever known_

_Every day is a battle I face_

_Strange life I live but it's what you've decided_

_I'll give it all into your hands_

_Do what you will_

_With me, and oh_

_I'll smile when you speak_

_Remember all those times I was hoping for something_

_And shaking my head_

_From all I have done_

_But you never left me_

_Ooh la love, I've fallen in love, and it's better this time_

_Than ever before_

_Ooh la love, I've fallen in love, and it's better this time_

_Than I've ever known_

_Ooh la love, I've fallen in love, and it's better this time_

_Than ever before_

_Ooh la love, I've fallen in love, and it's better this time_

_Than I've ever known_

_Give it up for you,_

_I would give it up for you_

_I would give it up for you,_

_I would do anything for you_

_Ooh la love, I've fallen in love, and it's better this time_

_Than ever before_

_Ooh la love, I've fallen in love, and it's better this time_

_Than I've ever known_

_Ooh la love, I've fallen in love, and it's better this time_

_Than ever before_

_Ooh la love, I've fallen in love, and it's better this time_

_Than I've ever known_

_I've fallen_

_In love_

_I've fallen_

_In love_

_I've fallen_

_In love_

* * *

><p>As the song faded to an end, I took out the earbud and handed it back to him.<p>

"Good song, right?" he asked, taking out his own earbud and wrapping them around his iPod. He looked a little embarassed, although I haven't a clue as to why.

I nodded. It was. I'm usually picky with songs with titles like that, and songs that say the word _love _more than three times. But it was good. The lyrics were really different and specific, for a love song, I mean. And I was surprised that Clyde knew and liked it.

"Yeah, I really like it right now." he told me. A shy grin that he couldn't hide spread across his face. "It kinda describes how I feel with . . ." he began to add, then trailing off. His grin faded as he looked away. It sounded like he started to say something, but then held back. He turned a light shade of pink. ". . . with Bebe."

I tried not to roll my eyes or let out a disrespectful snort. Of course he would say that. It's always about Bebe with him, isn't it? Does he know that she probably doesn't even like him? That she'll most likely dump him on Monday, when we get back to school? What he needs is someone who'll appreciate him forever, no matter what he does. Someone who genuinely cares about his feelings, and can pick him up when he's down. Someone he can always have a good time with, someone who isn't fake, someone who, someone who . . .

Someone who doesn't know what he's going on about.

I bit my lip, and flicked a flatcake crumb off the edge of the table. "That's nice," trying not to sound bitter. I think he heard it in my tone nonetheless, because his eyes flickered up and he glanced at me. But there wasn't anger in his eyes, or anything hateful, for that matter. I saw something more like hope and recognition reflecting in his hazel eyes. What was he thinking . . ?

"You like Heidi, right?" he asked with that same look in his eyes.

Whoa. This conversation might not end well, Kevin. I could feel it; my Stoley-senses were tingling.

" . . . Yeah?" I replied cautiously.

There was a nervous pause.

"Do you . . . love her?"

I stared at him, puzzled. Why was he asking these things? What was it to him? Why is he so interested in me and Heidi?

"Not . . . not like you love Bebe," I said. I was actually trying to get him to talk about Bebe. I was desperate to get off this topic.

Instead of smiling and going off about Bebe, he looked away, the hopeful gleam gone from his eyes, replaced with a sad and lost haze.

"Not like me and Bebe, huh." he said quietly. His eyes drifted up to the window, and he absentmindedly took another flatcake off the stack. I did the same.

We were both silent after that. I guess he had nothing else to say, and even though I did, I didn't want to bring it up.

The snow had stopped falling outside. Clyde didn't start humming again, and we sat there in silence, eating flatcake after flatcake, until they were about halfway gone.

It stayed totally silent, except for the clock ticking in the family room above the fireplace. Finally Clyde's phone vibrated, breaking the odd silence.

"My mom says I have to start heading home," he said without expression. He pulled his eyes away from his phone and looked at me, and started to get up.

"Uh, do you want me to walk you or something?" I offered awkwardly.

"No, it's just a few blocks down, and you should probably wrap up the research that I made you quit." he told me, walking out of the kitchen. I stood up and followed him. "Thanks anyway."

"Whatever you say," I told him lightly, trying to air out the thickness of the conversation a little. It didn't really work. True, he didn't sound like he was mad about anything, only oddly put down, it seemed.

He grabbed his heavier coat off of its rack and pushed his arms through the sleeves. He smiled kindly but weakly at me as he slipped on his shoes and put his hand on the doorknob. "See you tomorrow, Kev," he said, opening the door and letting the cold air come in.

"See ya." I saw him give a brisk wave of his hand as he stepped out, and I managed to shoot him a quick wave myself before he was out the door and walking down the sidewalk. I went into the kitchen to check on him from the window to make sure he didn't slip or something stupid like that, but it was too dark to see anything. Instead, I went over to the cupboard and rummaged through my mom's cooking magazines, until I found one with a title-I think it was French-that I couldn't bring myself to say out loud and pulled it out. I tossed it onto the table, leaving it to reveal a random page. I closed the cupboard and made my way to the magazine and began to read the text.

I've always wanted to try it. Just the idea of it seems so cool. And I think I'd feel pretty sophisticated if I did manage to get it done.

Making creme brûlée, I mean.

I think creme brulee is so insanely delicious and out of this world. I really wish I could make it, or at least _knew _someone who could.

The skill it takes to make one little serving of creme brulee is probably more than you think. Everything must be precise. The consistency of the mix, the flavor, and especially the way it is burnt. I'd ruin creme brulee if someone handed me the cooking torch that caramelizes the sweet stuff. I'd love to be able to do it professionally, to create that golden-brown, glossy, sugary coating that crackles like a puddle frozen over with a thin layer of ice. But I think I'd do it way wrong.

I don't know what you're thinking right now. You're probably judging me inside your head. Thinking things like, _why does Kevin want to make creme brulee?_ Or, _isn't baking for girls?_

Whatever you may be thinking, I just want to ask you this: have you ever _tried_ creme brulee?

I swear, it is the most amazing dessert food you will ever eat. It is insanely good stuff, and anyone who is talented enough to make it right has been given a gift from god.

And, I'm not a food critic or anything fancy-smancy like that, so I don't ever think of food in philosophical ways. Creme brulee is an exception, however. Whenever I think hard about creme brulee . . . I can actually really get into it. It's a strange thing, I know, but it all really makes sense. And I know this is going to sound totally corny and stuff, but just hear me out. I usually compare creme brulee to my life. My life is like . . . _creme brulee_.

Here, let me explain.

First off, there are the ingredients. Everything is needed to make the cream, and everything must be mixed right to get the perfect consistency. And you _absolutely must_ have the right measurements of each ingredient as well. Kind of like your life, too, probably. All the little things that have been introduced to you in your life have led up to where you are now. No matter how terrible your life may be, those are your ingredients, and they have made the perfect consistency. And no, I'm definitely not saying that if your life sucks, that's how it's gonna be, and you can't do shit about it. No. I'm not done explaining yet.

All the ingredients of your life make your life what it is. _The perfect consistency_.

And here's where it gets really poetic. You know the perfect glazed layer that makes creme brulee, well, creme brulee? That's what changes in your life. When things get better, great, or perfect.

Nobody is born with a perfect life. We all have to live a little before we can be blessed with that wonderful coating. And, depending on your consistency, your glaze can come sooner, or later. If your life isn't so great, maybe you glaze later. Maybe you live in a bad neighborhood, or you don't have much money, or there's bad family situations . . . whatever it is, you'll get your glaze in time. You'll know when it comes. It will be a great, wonderful day, when you notice this change.

You'll have your glaze. But the best part . . . the best part is when you finally crack that glaze with your spoon and come to all the goodness inside. That day when you're at your happiest, and you know there will never be a day like it, ever again. You know you'll be different from that day on.

I'm nowhere near cracking that delicious golden coating yet . . . I doubt that my creme brulee is even _coated _yet. My life is starting to change for the better, I think. Heidi's my friend, and me and Clyde have gotten a little close.

I looked up from the book and stared out the window, looking at nothing but darkness. My only thought was if Clyde had made it home okay. I'm sure he did, but with that kid . . . well, you never know. Today had been fun. He's starting to become less irritating. Either that, or I'm just starting to accept him. The reason for me being always stingy around him is probably my own fault, not his. Clyde's an okay guy. And I realize that . . .

I had actually been sad to see him go.

My mind lingered on that thought for a few seconds longer, and then I shut the cookbook in front of me. My perfect dessert is far from complete. And I don't know when it will be. I just hope it's not too long from now.


	6. Chapter 6

**CHAPTER 6**

**A/N: **Ahhhh! Here it is, it's still going! Sorry it's been long, the middle of the school year is really heating up! I hate to say it, but expect updates to become less frequent :(

**I HAVE FANART! **Do you guys know how insanely exciting this is? It can be found on my tumblr blog (midnitecalliope). Please go look, and make sure you drop by and say hi to the artist (who's link is on the post)!

Wow, it's so exciting! If anyone has fanart, contact me! You can do it on here, DeviantArt (NeverShoutYuki), tumblr (midnitecalliope) or email (). You will be credited, and your work much more appreciated than you might've thought!

Personal notes~~there's a lot this time! :'D

namelessjane: I'm sorry for tricking you with updates (and anyone else for that matter)! But I hope you found that I did upload chapter 5 in that time, and hopefully you read it? 0w0 And I'm glad I'm able to write Kevin as you see him. That's pretty sweet to know! And don't worry, I'm not too good at reviews either, but remember that anything positive always helps! Thanks for reading! 3

SoapyTucker: Thanks for multiple reviews :) And of course Clyde has it all~why else would he have everything going for him? XD

il: Thanks for multiple reviews as well! That was a wonderful review :) I'm glad you liked the cooking scene, and you pretty much hit the mark on what I was aiming for readers to notice ;)

Saky: Oh my gog. Is that a typo, or are you a Homestuck...? :D Anyway, thanks for reviewing! I'm glad you liked that song, and got a deeper feeling out of the whole chapter instead of the two just cooking. And even though the updates may slow, I will finish this story! Keep reading~~

Druekee: Well if you were looking forward to the next chapter, here it is! And thanks for feedback on that creme brulee thing; I was kind self-conscious about that bit XD

dotdotdanii: Thank you for putting the song on as reading it, first of all! I really wish more people would do that, but I understand why they wouldn't want to. XD And yes, I try not to make Kevin a total nerd, because then I feel like Clyde would have no interest in him at all. :( And ohohoho, you will find out what they are planning sooooon, verrry soon! Oh. But. Clyde did say Bebe's name after listening to the song, didn't he? Tsk tsk. Well, it did seem he was a little flustered about it all...

Catherine: Hello, you are back! And please, don't apologize for a thing. I understand you have a busy schedule, as do I! I am totally open to emailing you when I update, but for that you must be comfy-cozy with giving me your email first. As soon as that's done, I'll be sending you emails along with updates! Ahhhh and such a wonderful review! I loved reading all of it :'D I'm so glad you and the other readers are really understanding what's going on and taking in all the deatails; oh, it's just perfect! And enjoying it at the same time~my readers are truly the best! Gosh the last part of your review is the best ever. I'm so glad you've taken my little story to be your favorite! xoxo

Kelsey: I'm glad to find another Stolovan fan! :) Glad you like the story so far, and yes! Please do keep up! And thanks for the review~!

* * *

><p>I woke up with a headache this morning. Already. I swear, I'm gonna have goddamn grey hairs before I'm twenty.<p>

I actually think I was stressing in my dream. I had ideas of today being a stressful day already, but having a dream about it and waking up with a headache only confirmed it. Today is the day I go shopping with Heidi. Yay. Not that Heidi's a problem or anything, it's just that . . . _shopping_. I don't like it.

I think my headache was also partially caused by last night. I know my mental view went totally hay-wire last night, and I wouldn't be surprised to find my brain smoking from all the pressure it's under. But I can't do anything about it now except take a couple Aspirins and hope I get through the day alive.

I found the house unusually warm today, so I skipped throwing on a shirt and just stumbled downstairs. I found that my mom was up, cooking, and seeming strangely energetic for this time of the day. When I walked into the kitchen, rubbing my eyes, I found my mom looking up at me.

Hehe, I get to look _down _at her. Hehehe.

"Kevin," she began, smiling and going back to her cooking. "I think your clothes are missing."

Well, I was not expecting you to be up at this hour, oh-so-loving mother.

"Yeah, this is how real men sleep."

"Ha, and you're a real man?"

"Damn right."

"Hey. don't say that."

"Right."

As I wandered around the kitchen, still half-asleep, she turned the stove off and put something on a plate. Right before I was about to open the cupboard, she put her hand on my back and propelled me to the table. She roughly sat me down (although I think the roughness was unintentional, for she seemed energetic) and placed a plate, piled high with foods that I should be eating for dinner, right in front of me.

She sat down across from me and looked at me with her chin in her hands. "Go on, eat!"

I slowly looked from her, back to my plate. "Uh . . . what is this."

"You know what it is, Kevin!" she said, like I was the funniest person in the world.

"But, um . . . why is it here. On my plate."

"I made you breakfast this morning, stupid!" she retorted, almost laughing. I think she meant to say silly.

You know when you're mom is acting strangely happy and not like herself, and you could only wonder what happened to make her that way? Yep.

"Um . . . why."

"Is it that weird for a mom to make her son breakfast?"

"For you," I replied.

She laughed and said, "Just eat it!"

On my plate she had put fried rice, chow mein, and sugar-egg rolls. I cautiously took a spoonful of fried rice and brought it to my mouth, pausing for a second before I actually ate it to try and sniff out the poison. Then I stuck it in my mouth.

As I chewed, I realized that she was still staring at me, so I stared uneasily back. I swallowed.

"What is wrong with you."

Her smile did not falter.

"I'm so happy for you," she said with a reserved yet glad tone. I eyed her.

"For . . . what?"

She smiled and reached for a ceramic container that had been placed on the edge of the table. She reached inside and to my amazement, pulled out a flatcake from last night.

"I heard you and Clyde talking," she said, tearing off a piece of the flatcake.

" . . . You did," I asked blankly, keeping my eyes away from hers by focusing on her hands. I took hint that she nodded. "You didn't hear _all_ of it, did you?"

She shook her head. "Of course not! I have better things to do than to listen to teenage boys' conversations!" she said, amused with my concern. "I caught pieces of your talking as I walked back and forth from the laundry room. And you have too many socks, Kevin."

That was a relief. Not the sock thing. That she didn't hear all of our conversation.

Actually, what am I worrying about? It's not like I said-or _he _said-anything embarrassing, right?

"Oh, okay." I said. I hoped that would be the end of it. I put some more fried rice in my mouth.

She eyed me curiously with a scheming grin as she munched on her flatcake. "You guys are good friends, aren't you?"

I shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant. "I guess so."

"How come he doesn't come over more?"

I shrugged again. "I dunno. We're busy, I guess."

She snorted. "Oh yeah, because you're _always _busy."

I glared at her.

"Don't act so tough, Kevin," she said, grinning. "I'm just teasing. But why don't you invite him over more?"

I looked hesitantly at her. "He just gets kind of . . . annoying at times."

She looked at me expectantly. When I didn't add anything else, she said, "And . . .?"

I looked at her for a second more, then back down to the plate she had made me. "I think I just have mixed feelings about him," I began cautiously. "Like, he's really annoying a lot, but then there are some times when . . ."

I trailed off, remembering who I was talking to, and looked up. She looked at me like she was trying too hard to understand. I really knew she wasn't, and I think it was just me starting to become slightly paranoid about it all. But it still got me on edge.

I began to slide out of my chair, saying, "You're not supposed to know any of this. Why am I even telling you this?"

"Because I'm your mom," she said gently. She said it so calmly, that, for a second, I almost started to spill my guts to her. But then I shook my head and stood up.

"No. And I'm only in my boxers," I added awkwardly, starting to push my chair in.

"I've seen you naked," she said casually, making me stop immediately and throw a concerned look at her. She leaned in over the table and menacingly whispered, "I have _nude _pictures of you."

I turned around. In case you're wondering, she's talking about my baby pictures. I pushed a hand through my hair and slunk back in my chair in defeat.

"If you're looking for a reason for me growing up weird, blame it on yourself." I looked at her warily. She _will _grow up to be a crazy old Chinese lady. I guarantee you.

She just smiled and bit off some more of the flatcake. "So," she began eagerly. "We were talking about you and Clyde, yes?"

"No we weren't what are you talking about. You must be sick. Go to bed."

She sighed. "Okay, fine. If you're going to be difficult, we won't talk. Just listen to me for a second, okay?"

I looked at her, and I could tell that the silliness was gone from her tone, and she was going to say something meaningful to me. I found my eyes darting around, trying to avoid direct contact with hers.

"If you ever get any closer to him, make sure you open up some. It's not all his fault that he seems annoying. It's also you. He's a good boy; I can see that. So go easy on him Kevin, okay?" She looked at me with her fading blue eyes. "If you don't get what I'm saying now, you will later. Maybe soon."

There was a long, heavy pause after that. She was right. She was so on target that it was hard to believe. It's like she had scanned my mind and our friendship with one quick sweep of her eyes. Most of this stuff she had just reasoned to me were things that I was beginning to realize myself. But I think hearing someone else say the same thing confirmed my suspicions. It's not entirely Clyde's fault that we aren't closer. It's mine, too. I _do _need to open up some. I don't really think I'm giving him much of a fighting chance here.

Yet, he keeps on fighting . . .

"I think I kind of get what you mean," I said quietly.

She nodded. Then she picked up a light smile again and told me, "Good. Now go get ready for school; you must be cold in just your underwear. And take your plate up with you."

I smiled gratefully at her and did just that. It felt good to be grateful towards my mom. I honestly haven't felt like that in quite a stretch of time. It kinda makes me feel like I looked _up _to her just then . . . too bad it couldn't have been over a better topic.

* * *

><p>I didn't take lunch to school, because breakfast had filled me up. It was really good, too. No restaurant can compare to my mom's homemade cooking.<p>

I sat down at our table, with the usual dilemmas going on. Craig had stunk himself up with Sharpie, and some of the actual table, too. Token was reading and doing homework and listening to music and being nice to everyone and all that stuff all at once, like any old Token Black will do. Tweek was trying not to flip out, but like usual, everything was making him paranoid. And Clyde was . . . alone today. Alone as in, not with Bebe squawking about. A very nice change, I would say.

I had already talked to Heidi about shopping after school today. I had brought sixty-five bucks, and she had brought fifty. I'm really hoping that I don't have to spend it all. We agreed to just drive into Denver, do some speedy shopping, and be home in time for dinner. Of course. And I'm happy to report that she was not all creepy today. The usual chipper Heidi was back for the time being.

Right before I plugged in my iPod, I felt a light tap on my shoulder. I turned.

"So I heard you and Heidi are going shopping after school today?"

". . . You did?" I asked.

Clyde nodded. "Yeah, from Bebe. Who heard from Heidi. Who talked about it with you."

"Oh. Um. Yeah I guess we are. Why."

He shrugged. "Just wondering. Do you know where you're going to go?"

"Denver. But you probably heard that from Bebe."

"Actually no. But I assumed that anyway. There's nowhere to go around here," he said, smirking. "White-trash town."

I laughed. Kind of. I felt really weird about talking to him today. "Pretty much. So I don't really have an idea of what kind of stuff to get. What are you and Bebe wearing?"

Clyde shrugged, as if it was nothing of importance. It was weird. A few days ago he would've been stoked to tell me about their matching outfits. But it seemed like lately he's had enough of Bebe. It's about time.

"I dunno, just matching stuff. It looks kinda lousy to me. Nothing special?"

What? Did he just say that? He thinks that their matching outfits are _lousy _and _nothing special_? I'm wondering if he's had more than enough of Bebe.

". . . Hey," I began, studying him. "Is everything okay between you and her?"

Gosh, saying that makes me cringe. It's not like everything ever _was _okay between him and her. It's not like there really was _anything _between him and her.

He kind of lolled his head to the side and snorted. "Yeah, everything's fine. It's just kind of boring. I don't really like her that much. She's a nice girl and all, but she's a phony. That's all."

I almost choked on my food. Am I hearing everything right today? This is not Clyde Donovan talking to me. Wasn't he just going off about how great she was, every other day of his life?

"But uh, what about like, that song and stuff? That one you showed me." I was kind of desperate to know what was going on. It was pretty bad when he was drooling over her, but I have to admit that this was worse.

He turned a little red. "What song?"

"The one by Foster the People. That made you think of her."

He put his elbow on the table and put the side of his face into his palm and leaned into it. He sighed. "Did I say that? That I thought of her?"

I looked at him questioningly and slowly brought myself to nod. "You did."

He rolled his eyes. "Ugh, great. Well, forget I said that then. I like that song. But I don't think of me and her."

I swallowed. I stared at him. First, it was my mom being weird. And I don't want the disease to pass to him, too.

"Okay, seriously? What's going on, Clyde."

I was dead serious. He looked at me with a subtle look of astonishment. "What do you mean?"

I stared him down. "You're being weird. Un-Clydelike."  
>He sighed. "So you think that just because I'm not talking so highly of Bebe right now, that I'm not being normal."<p>

"You're always talking highly of Bebe. That's you being normal."

"I'm just trying to change things, okay?" he said, finally growing frustrated. I wanted to pry more, but it seemed like a good time for him to start saying some stuff right about now. "I'm tired of all this shit. Chasing after the same things over and over and over. And never getting anywhere. It's really been taking its toll on me, and . . . I just wanna be done with it all."

I looked at him almost proudly. After a significant pause, I said to him, "Clyde; that just may be the smartest thing I have ever heard you say."

He glanced up at me, his eyes breaking through that strange haze for a moment. Then they clouded up again, and he looked down.

"Yeah, well then I must be pretty fucking stupid."

I opened my mouth to try and tell him that's not what I meant, but he simply stood up and walked away, the lunch bell sounding a second after. He didn't seem mad as he left though. Kind of in that distraught mood that he left my house with last night.

I got up irritably. Clyde and his goddamn sensitivity. Will I ever get a break from this guy? Maybe some sweet, hot, creme brulee on the side? I mean, it's clear that his unstable emotions are the cause of mine. Clyde is just complaint after complaint. And Kevin Stoley is starting to complain and complain . . .

* * *

><p>That 2:30 bell was the savior of my day. I quickly made my way out of class and hurried to my locker. I really didn't care that I had to spend the rest of my afternoon at the mall in Denver. It sounded pretty fun, compared to being stuck in this lousy old school for thirty minutes more. And I was looking forward to hanging out with Heidi, where I could just talk to her and not worry about all these crazy emotions swimming around and around and around-<p>

"Hey Kevin," I heard Heidi from behind me. "You almost ready to go?"

"Hang on a sec," I mumbled back, reaching for my backpack. I dragged it out and shut my locker, and then turned around. "Yep, all ready."

We walked side by side in silence down the crowded hall until we were near the exit. I almost laughed out loud at how alike we were in public kindness. We went to equal distances to avoid everyone possible in the halls, and she made this slightly pinched, pained face as if she was smelling something rotten. I really hope she didn't get that from me. Then I would feel pretty bad, because I know that is definitely not the right behavior for a person, especially a decent girl like her. But it would still be funny. And I doubt that she got it from me.

"You don't have any plans in mind for your outfit, do you?" she asked once we were outside, in a tone that implied that she must already know the answer.

"Yep, exactly right," I replied with a light laugh.

She smirked. "Well, I didn't either, but I was just starting to think of something along the lines-"

"HEY, HEIDI!" came a loud yell from across the parking lot, cutting her off. We both jumped.

It was Bebe, standing with Clyde, who was leaning against his car, looking bored. "Heidi, Kevin: over here!"

I glanced at Heidi with fear, and she looked up at me with dismay. I think we were both thinking relatively similar thoughts. She sucked in her breath and lead the way with a haughty aura about her. I followed, trying to read Clyde from afar before I got too close.

I saw nothing but dull boredness.

"Um, Bebe?" Heidi addressed uneasily, squinting up at her in the sunlight reflecting off of the snow.

"Oh, I'm so happy we caught you two in time!" Bebe exclaimed over-excitedly. She patted Heidi's cheek. "Well, we don't want to be stuck in traffic, so chop-chop, let's go!"

"Whoa whoa, calm down," I told her, stepping in front of Heidi. "What are you talking about?"

She turned around and smiled, rolling her eyes. "We're going to the mall with you guys, Kevin!"

She answered me like I was six years old. No. I did not want this monstrosity coming to the mall with me. I threw a look at Heidi.

She threw a look back. I could read her entire thoughts with just that one glance. It clearly said: _Kevin-just-go-with-it-if-you-know-what's-good-for-you-if-you-turn-her-down-she'll-still-come-and -she'll-be-in-a-terrible-mood-so-just-chill-and-go-with-it-unless-you-want-the-rest-of-the-day-to-be-a-living-hell._

I just knew that's what she was trying to tell me.

I turned back to Bebe and clapped my hands together once. "Arlight, sounds great you guys! So we'll just go over there to my-"

"I wanna sit with Kevin."

All eyes turned to Clyde.

"No," Bebe an I objected spontaneously.

". . . Why not?" he asked, looking slightly hurt.

"Because, we're dat-"

"Because I have my own car," I interrupted, making sure she didn't say that. I had this feeling that those words were the exact opposite of what he wanted to hear right now. Taking into account what had happened earlier at lunch, that is. I placed my hand on Heidi's shoulder. "And it wouldn't make sense for Heidi and Bebe to drive in my car, would it?" Clyde eyed me, and then reluctantly shook his head. "Alright. Then you take Bebe, and I'll take Heidi; okay?"

Clyde held in a groan as he tossed his keys up and caught them as they came back down. "Yeah, I guess that works."

I waited for Clyde and Bebe to get into Clyde's husky SUV, and then propelled Heidi over to my little Buick.

"Kevin, what was all that about?" she asked worriedly.

"Um, kind of a lot to explain," I said, coming to a stop at my car, fumbling for my keys. "I'll uh, tell you on the way there."

I opened up the passenger-seat door for her, and she slid in. I walked quickly over to the other side and seated myself, and started backing the car up. As I was leaving the parking lot, I quickly glanced in the rear-view mirror to see Clyde and Bebe following behind us in his car. I think it was coincidence, but I caught his glare, and he flashed something oddly pitiful at me. He looked . . . pretty upset. I shook my head as I turned my blinker on, waiting behind the line of other cars.

"Oh my lord," I muttered to myself, shaking my head. I smirked as I focused my eyes back on the road.

"What?" Heidi exclaimed, staring at me. Her eyes were wide and confused, and I began to argue about what to tell her. I mean, she seemed like she was on pretty good terms with Bebe, what if she said something? Even if it was unintentional?

"Ugh," I spluttered. "Uhm, Clyde." I looked back and forth quickly before turning right and out of the stream of junkie used cars.

She turned away and dropped back into the seat, folding her arms. She smirked. "Right. And what's up with him?"

I pressed my foot down on the gas pedal as we left school limits. "It's er, really complicated." I felt her glancing with irritation at me. "Sorry, but it really is."

She sighed. "Sorry if I seem like they prying type right now, but why don't you just tell me? We're the only two in this car," she told me. She messily tousled her bangs. "And also, it's making you kind of weird, whatever it is. Which in turn makes _me _concerned."

She played her cards well, don't you think? Adding the "makes me concerned" part and all. I suppose she probably _is _concerned, because I know I'm definitely concerned about myself. I'm not so sure that it's totally safe for me to be driving right now, with Clyde on my tail and all these crazy thoughts messing up the thing called my mind, which I once thought was my personal sanctuary. A private getaway, just for me. But not any more; it seems like every where I turn to, it's Clyde this, Clyde that, Heidi this, Bebe that.

This is the kind of hell you get when you start to have a social life.

"Um well, I appreciate you caring and all," I began, slowing down as we neared the outskirts of town where the roads got icy. "But it's hard for me to explain."

She blew some hair out of her face. "And why is that."

"Because," I said, pausing afterwards. "I don't even understand any of it."

When I said this, she turned her head and looked at me. I cast a quick side-glance at her before focusing back on the road. I could feel her gaze growing steadily, getting more intense as she studied me.

I saw the small sign coming up. The turn. Stark's Pond was coming up quickly on the right. My hands twitched once as I fought the urge to take a sharp turn and disappear. I took a deep breath and lolled my head to the side. I kept my eyes on the yellow lines in the center of the road until the sign flew by in a grey blur.

In the strange silence, Heidi checked her phone.

"How long will it take us to get to Denver?" she asked bluntly.

"Um about an hour and a half. Why."

"Because," she started, loosening her seat belt and turning slightly in her seat so that she could look at me without craning her neck. "You're going to spill out everything to me. And it looks like we have _plenty _of time."

* * *

><p>Silence.<p>

For what seemed like hours. But the flush growing in my cheeks told me it was only minutes.

" . . . I-I'm tired," Heidi concluded with a yawn. There was a slight strain to her voice, and she looked away awkwardly. She reclined her seat and rolled over, turning away from me. "Wake me up when we get there."

I didn't reply. My face was growing ever warmer, and my mouth was dry. I turned down the radio a little bit, so it wasn't blasting right next to her face. But it seemed to make the atmosphere worse. For me, anyway. For Heidi, it was probably better that I had turned the radio down, so she could take a quick nap.

After all that passed, I could care less about what was better for me. I had basically sabotaged my whole existence.

. . . Damn it.

All.

Looking away from Heidi, I glanced up into the side mirror. I saw Clyde's chunky SUV cruising along, a few cars behind, and one lane over.

I wonder what they were talking about. If they were talking at all. Knowing Bebe, she would probably be doing all the talking. Poor Clyde.

But if he knew what I had just done, would he be thinking the same? Poor, poor Kevin . . .

I felt kind of torn. Half of me regretted not telling her the _whole _story. But the other half of me was thankful for not busting my own ass.

But, judging by the way she looked at me, she probably already figured out the whole story anyway. Or most of it, at least.

At first I didn't think I would do it. I refused her requests. But she was so open, she was so ready to receive my problems, that eventually, I just . . . _gave in_. I think she kicked me in my weak spot and caused me to cave in. She was like a greedy treasure hunter, who just broke all the sturdy walls to get to the treasure. Except, greedy isn't how I would describe her.

I wonder what she was thinking. If she was asleep yet. If she was still awake, thinking with her eyes closed, what could she be thinking? When we were deep in discussion, I forgot about us being dates, about us being a thing, and about her possibly harboring feelings for me. And I wondered if I made her feel like she wasn't good enough, or like she had made a fateful, wrong decision.

Maybe she's a lot like me right now. Confused, not knowing what to do with all these new feelings. And maybe she was worse, because she had gotten all this information in about thirty minutes, which is way faster than how long it took me to get here.

Half of me wanted to shake her shoulder and tell her, "Hey, wake up. You know all that stuff I just said? Well, pretend I never said it. You and me could just leave all this uncertainty behind and just be normal people. Best friends. Maybe more. But I never said any of that, okay? So just forget it."

I blinked. Even if I did say that, how could she simply forget all that I just told her? How can she ever look at me the same after that?

"_Well, you know how me and Clyde are friends, right?"_

"_Uh huh."_

"_Well . . . don't get the wrong riff here, but . . . I'm starting to think of him as, um, _more than a friend_ . . ."_

The traffic began to jam up a little, and I came to a brief stop. I quickly glanced down at Heidi.

She must've been tired, because her breathing was deep and long. Her foot jerked once. I was pretty sure she had into some kind of sleep, even if it was only a light one.

The other half of me wanted so badly to believe in my hopes that she would wake up and see me as the Kevin Stoley she had befriended, and nothing more, nothing less. And accept it, despite every thing I told her.

I looked back out onto the road as the lines of cars begin to crawl forward again. I stole a quick glance at the side mirrors, and found Clyde's red car among the sea of greys and blacks.

I noticed the song on the radio. Impossible, by Anberlin. Once again, Stark's Pond creeped back into the cracks of my mind. Cautiously, I turned up the radio a little. Not only because I liked the song, but because the bridge lyrics got me thinking.

_I'm impossible_

_To figure out,_

_So impossible,_

_You had your doubts_

I turned it up, just a little. If Heidi was remotely awake, I wonder if she was listening to the lyrics at all.

The traffic began to clear, and I drove on to Denver.

* * *

><p>Ahh, behold the beautiful sight of the giant grey rectangles that are the mall.<p>

I pulled into the parking lot, sighing in relief as I noticed the lack of cars. The only thing worse than a giant indoor shopping mall is a giant indoor shopping mall packed with _loud people_.

I parked right next to an entrance to Macy's, because there was a very light snow coming down, and I didn't feel like walking a long way to get inside. Just as I cut the engine, Clyde pulled into a spot a few places away and parked.

Gently, I shook Heidi's shoulder.

"Ffnnnhhh," she mumbled groggily.

"Hey, we're at the mall now."

She slowly turned over and blinked sleepily at me. I smiled at her and then turned away to unbuckle and pull out my keys. She slowly gathered herself and began to fuss with the buckle, and eventually restored her seat to its original position. She smoothed down her hair a little and then stepped out of the car.

I got out, and my legs felt like jelly. I locked the car and stomped around on the pavement a little, trying to rid my legs of their unstable condition.

Heidi stood by me, in a dream-like state. I guessed she was still pretty tired. She pulled up the fuzzy collar of her jacket up to shield her neck from the cold wind.

Bebe and Clyde eventually came out of their car, and made their way over to us. Bebe was talking when she got out of the car, didn't stop until they were right in front of us. Clyde looked a little tired.

"How was the drive," I asked bluntly, looking at Clyde.

"Mrrph," he mumbled in reply. Yeah, he was tired. And I was sick to my stomach.

"Oh, you two," Bebe laughed. She tugged on Clyde's arm and lead him towards the mall entrance. "Let's go!"

Following them, I looped my arm with Heidi's, and led her in that direction. To my relief, she simply smiled like she would have any other day. And I felt her hold her side of the link, not pull away or resist.

Into the mall we went. As soon as we passed through the doors, we were hit with humid mall air and a musty smell of perfume that drifted from the cosmetics section.

"So where are we going to shop?" I asked Heidi quietly, feeling like if I spoke too loud, I would bring her out of her hazy stance.

"Why not here?" Bebe said spinning around. Clyde reluctantly turned around also.

"Well, erm," I began a bit awkwardly. How do I say this to her? I don't think it'll process in her mind. "Macy's is kind of, um-"

"It's too expensive," Heidi finished for me. Although she was a bit abrupt, she got my entire point across.

"Oh, don't be stingy like that you guys!" she exclaimed, tossing a hand out at us. "This is the _Winter Dance_ we're talking about here. It's like, almost as important as Prom! Kind of. A little."

"Uh, okay, but it's too expensive here." I argued. "For _us_, anyway."

"Oh?" Bebe said in surprise. She looked at Clyde. "You didn't tell them?"

"Uh, ha. I forgot." Clyde popped a piece of gum into his mouth.

"Tell us what?" I asked, hopefully with a dash of interest. I was trying not to look too much like Clyde right now.

"We'll be paying for your guys' outfits!"

Me and Heidi exchanged a glance.

" . . . Why?" Heidi asked almost suspiciously.

"Because," Bebe drawled, jangling her earrings and rolling her eyes with a smile. "You two have a great thing going here! This dance is a huge milestone for you. We can't let it go to waste!" She looked at Heidi in particular when she said this. Clyde was purposefully looking at the ground.

"Oh . . . o-okay." Heidi said quietly. She looked sideways, escaping Bebe's gaze for a moment, and then back with a smile. "Thanks."

I shrugged. "Huh, yeah, thanks," I said sheepishly. I didn't really know what to say. I had no idea this was coming, so what could I say besides a simple "thanks"? And something about the way Bebe said it got Heidi slightly on edge. Kind of a tense moment, and I have no idea as to why.

"Alright then, Heidi, you come with me!" Bebe said suddenly, taking Heidi by the hand and leading her to the ladies' section. She managed a scared yet smiling wave before disappearing around the corner.

"Heh, good luck to her," Clyde said when they were gone, as we kept looking at the place they had disappeared.

I looked at him. "Car ride was hell, huh."

"You have no fucking idea."

_Yeah_, I thought. _You don't either._

…

_BLEHHH._

We turned around in the opposite direction from where Heidi and Bebe went, and headed into the men's section; which happened to be right there. We waded past the casual clothes and into the more expensive brands.

"So what are you going to wear?" I asked Clyde as I absentmindedly felt almost every sweater we passed.

He shrugged. "Just a tux. And don't worry-it doesn't have any tacky colors or anything. Just black accented with light blue. Bebe said it looked "wintery.""

"Huh. That's cool, I guess. What's she going to wear?" If Bebe was getting some kind of winter romper or something, I didn't want her to buy the same kind of think for Heidi. No thank-you.

"A dress. A metallicy-blue one." He replied, looking up thoughtfully. He started looking at a pair of jeans as he added, "It looks a lot more "wintery" than my tux does, so I guess that's good for me."

"Huh," was all I said. I didn't really want to wear a tuxedo, especially to an insignificant little dance like the upcoming one. Even if it _did _look "wintery."

Holding the pants, he turned around and looked at me. He looked from me back to the pants. "I wonder how good her idea will work," he mumbled to himself as he evaluated the pants. Or me. Or both, probably. Yeah, probably both.

"Wait," I said, cutting off my own thoughts, as well as his, most likely. "What's her idea?"

He looked at me for a second without saying a word, then turned around to go look at some other clothes. He stopped in front of a display of Polo sweaters. With the jeans in one hand, he began to absentmindedly examine the sweaters.

He looked at me and said, "Kind of a hipster thing."

I stared blankly back at him.

"What."

He paused, and then turned to face me. "Don't you know what hipster style is?"

I blinked a few times. "Of course. Not."

He sighed and laughed lightly, turning back to the sweaters. "Huh, okay. Maybe you don't know that it's called hipster, but I'm sure you know what style I'm talking about."

"Mmm. You're sure about that."

He plopped a navy blue sweater on top of the jeans. "Well, no. Far from it, actually," he said with a smirk. "But Bebe thinks you'll look good in it."

"Ha. And what does she know about what I'll look good in?"

He shrugged. "She's, you know . . ." he began, flicking his hand in the air, "artsy." *

After about another half-hour of roaming around macy's and picking up clothes that probably had price tags that I'd rather not see, Clyde finally decided that it was time for us to hit the changing rooms. I followed him there, and we found Bebe sitting in the lounge area, waiting for Heidi.

"Oh, you two took forever! Finding clothes was easy for us."

She stood up and came over to inspect Clyde's pickings.

"Hmm," she said, picking up a few things. "I think this should work!" She thrust them to me. "Go try these ones on, and let's see how you look."

"Oh, um, alright," I replied, awkwardly walking into one of the changing rooms.

I locked the door, set the clothes down, and lightly knocked on the wall next to me. "Hey, Heidi? Did you live through that?"

She laughed, and I heard clothes rustling. "Just barely! She hardly let me have a say in anything. But I guess it's okay because she didn't pick out anything yucky."

Yucky. Oh man.

"Heh, that's good. But can you believe how expensive some of this stuff is?" I asked, picking up a striped v-neck and taking a brave look at the tag.

"Well, that's macy's for you," she replied.

"Yeah, and they said they'll pay for it all?" I asked in disbelief, taking off my jacket and shirt. Hoo boy, I should maybe pick up a dumbell every blue moon. "There must be _some _kind of catch."

There was a pause before she agreed, saying, "Yeah, haha. Something."

I decided that was enough chat for now, and I put on the sweater and pants. I looked in the mirror.

I think I kind of got what Clyde was talking about.

Except, not really.

With a helpless shrug, I unlocked the door and stepped out into the lounge area, where Bebe was busily chatting away with a tired-looking Clyde. With her back turned to me, she didn't know I was there, until Clyde straightened his back and cocked his head at me, looking the outfit over.

"Uh, well?" I asked, bunching up my shoulders. Bebe spun around and her eyes lit up as she stood to talk to me.

"Oh, you look great!" she exclaimed. She brushed my shoulders down and looked at the outfit she had put together. "I love this style on you." She turned back to Clyde. "Don't you think it fits him?"

He waved his hands around, palm-up, not sure of what to say. "Um, yeah? Looks good, yeah," he replied, his face screwing up. This was not something we were used to.

She turned back to me, but took a step back. "Yes, yes, I like it. But this particular outfit seems too . . . dull. What you need is . . ." she trailed off, going back to the pile of clothes we had picked out. She pulled out a dark blue striped sweater and handed it to me. "Some color! Just go and swap that out with what you're wearing now."

I nodded, heading back into the changing room. At the same time I was heading in, Heidi stepped out.

I'm debating whether to tell you what she was in or not. Because if that's what she's wearing to the prom, then when the time comes for me to describe how stunning she looks on the dance night, then you'll already know what she looks like and it'll kill the moment. It will definitely kill the moment. So I won't tell you.

"Oh, Heidi that's nice. It really is. Buuuut, I don't think I like that one the best. I think _this _is what you should try on next-and I think you'll like it too!"

Oh. Well then she's not wearing that to the dance. Then I guess I can tell you what she was wearing. She had a light blue ruffled shirt, with a matching blue clip in her hair, and a gray skirt with white leggings. It looked extremely nice, yes, but I made it sound a little dull. So that way when I describe her at the dance she'll seem a lot prettier. Heh, look at me being clever.

We awkwardly waved at eachother. Then I stepped back into the changing room as Bebe handed Heidi her next outfit. I heard the door _chunk _shut a second after mine.

As I pulled my shirt off of my head, I wondered if by the time we got back it would be too late for Clyde to come over. We still had to finish our project, and I think he needed a guy to talk to, instead of Bebe's constant blabbering. I pulled the striped sweater over my head and pulled out my phone. It was a little past four. If we got out of here soon enough, then maybe we would have a few hours to ourselves. I changed my pants and walked out so Bebe could "inspect" the outfit.

"Oh, this one's nice also. I think I know what'll look good on you, Kev. Try this on," she said. Yeah, I can let the Kev thing slide. It's not worth the trouble.

She handed me yet another set of clothes. I reluctantly headed back into the changing room, hoping I wouldn't have to do this for too much longer.

The cold, groggy air was an unusual relief as I stepped outside and into the parking lot. It was now 5:30, and I had been trapped in that mall for way too long. After Bebe had decided on an outfit for me, we had to wait for Heidi. And then Bebe apparently had plans for accessories too, and I had to suffer through the pain of doing that too. And seeing the total of everything was overwhelming. Of course, I offered to pay what I could, but both Bebe and Clyde refused to let me.

I stuck my keys in the door and unlocked the car. Heidi slowly made her way to the other side, and I could see in her face that she was just as tired out from that as I was, even after taking a nap on the way here.

"Hey, go ahead and get in. I'll just be a second." I told her, putting my keys back in my pocket. She smiled gratefully and nodded, and then ducked into the passenger seat.

I walked a little ways away from my car, watching Clyde and Bebe emerge from Macy's with their bags. I waited for them to get closer, and then walked up to them.

"Hey if you're not too tired, do you wanna come over?" I asked Clyde, falling into their pace.

"For, uh, what?" he asked. He shifted the weight in his shoulders and blew out a small breath, turning to a small puff of steam in the cold air.

"To finish our project," I answered him. "It's due tomorrow, remember?"

"Oh! Right," he said, and then laughed. "Yeah sure, if you let me sleep the whole time."

"Ugh, I know. Sorry, but you're gonna have to work. No excuses!" I replied with a grin.

"Heh, alright. After I drop Bebe off I'll swing by."

I nodded and broke apart from them and went back to my car. I walked past the passenger side window and saw that Heidi had reclined the seat again, and her eyelids were drooping. Instead of going straight to the driver's side, I went around to the trunk and got out my fleece Star Wars blanket. I hope she doesn't mind being covered by Stormtroopers.

I got in the car and tossed the blanket on top of her.

Slightly startled, she examined it for a second and then smiled as she unfolded it. "This is a cool blanket," she said, smiling and she curled up in it. "And it's soft and warm."

I smiled at her as she turned over and tightened the blanket around her shoulders. I started the car and backed out of the parking space, and making sure Clyde and Bebe were close, drove out of the parking lot and headed back to South Park.

The ride home was certainly less eventful, for the only sound was the radio, and the roads were dark, restricting me from seeing much outside. When I got back into city limits, I slowed my speed to navigate through the neighborhoods, and gently shook Heidi's shoulder.

As she became aware of where she was, she brought her seat up and rubbed her eyes.

"Um, you need to tell me where to go," I told her as she stared sleepily out the window at the houses decorated with bright Christmas lights streamed by.

"Uhh, take a left . . . up here," she said, pointing at a street branching off.

The rest of the ride, although it was short, was awkward and silent. I pulled up to the house that she pointed out as hers, and she unbuckled her seatbelt and took the blanket off.

"Thanks for all this," she said, with one hand on the door, ready to get out.

"No problem," I replied with a yawn. "Bye."

"Bye." She smiled as she got out of the car. She stood outside the door for a second, hesitating. Then she stuck her head back into the car and added, "And I hope you find some answers, Kevin."

Before I had a chance to reply, let alone react, she was out again and the door was closed. I sat in the car blankly for a moment, slightly stunned by what she had said, and then shook my head and backed out of her driveway and cruised down the road to my house.

* * *

><p>It only took a few minutes after I got home for Clyde to arrive. The night was short. Nothing out of the ordinary happened, except Clyde actually worked. Which means we finished our essay in time, at about nine o'clock.<p>

"Can you uh, put that on a flash drive?" Clyde asked before I closed the document.

"Huh?" I said, turning to him. "Why?"

He shifted his shoulders awkwardly with a shy grin. "Well, I kind of wanted to turn it in myself. So I feel like, I dunno, like I-"

"I got it," I said with an understanding smile. I chuckled as I plugged his flash drive into the side of the computer. "Just really make sure you turn it in, okay?"

"Ugh, I'm not _that _stupid."

I handed him his flash drive with a knowing look. "Whatever you say."

He started to pack his things, and I shut my computer down. I was really goddamn tired from today and could use some sleep. I'd probably crash right after he was gone. Yeah, sleep sounds good . . .

"Hey Kevin?"

I turned to him. "Yeah?"

He gave me a long, tired look. "Don't print out your own copy, okay? I want your trust on this." He jostled his backpack. "Promise?"

I stared at him for a moment, hesitating to say yes.

But I realized that I wanted to trust him as much as he wanted me to.

"Yeah, Clyde. Promise."

He smiled and turned to leave when I added, "And Stoleys don't break their promises, either."

He continued on without turning back, but as he turned to go down the stairs, I caught a smile on his lips.

After a second, I turned around, fell onto my bed, and was asleep in minutes.

A/N

*If you know what that's from, then I immediately love you.


	7. Chapter 7

**CHAPTER 7**

**A/N**: Wow guys, I'm so sorry, it's been like, 5 months since the last chapter. I feel terrible. But hey, this chapter is over 10,000 words all on its own, so hey! You guys get a nice healthy dose of Stolovan.

Reviews!

Cupcake Queen Liz: Oh my God. Do I even need to say anything here? You're review is awesome, and I need to hear from you more, both on here and on DA! Thanks for reviewing though, I love you man. :iconoldschoolownedplz: Hehehe, I get it.

dotdotdanii: That's insane! In a good way, I mean. I can't believe you bought a whole CD, just based on a song I put in here! :0 But all the same, I'm so glad to hear you liked it. I'm always reluctant to incorporate songs, but holy cow your review made a difference! Thanks for the awesome review, I'll keep you posted~!

Catherine: I love to hear from you again! And I really, really, apologize for keeping this story on hold for so long. You're review made me melt inside, in all honesty. And I hate to tell you, but I think this website has some kind of block on emails. I still can't see what your email is! If you can maybe put a space or two in it next time, so the site won't recognize it as an email? Or even, give me the first part of your email in a sentence, and then the server in the next, just to be safe. However you want to do it! Because there is still a chapter or two left in this story, and you can count on me writing more. I'd love to be able to e-mail you whenever I update. Hope to hear from you very soon!

LeSouthParkAddict: Wow, your review made me so happy, too. I love to hear that you like the story! And unfortunately, if you gave me your email in your review, the site blocks me from seeing it. :( But all the same, I will try my best to get things across to you in any manner that I have to! There will be more to this story, so don't feel like it's over. Thanks so much!

**FOR ALL OF YOU:** If you want to contact me via e-mail so I know what yours is, send a quick message to me at insanelyCapricious, with the server hotmail. (insanelyCapricious hotmail . com, no spaces!) Thanks a bunch, you guys! Love you all.

* * *

><p>I slept restlessly that night. If you could even call it sleep. I kept waking up for brief seconds, half-consciously fretting over the history report.<p>

At 5:30, half an hour before I usually wake up, I finally got out of bed. I had decided that I couldn't just lie in tangled sheets forever, tapping my foot to keep me awake. I tousled my hair, debating whether I should even brush it today or not. I didn't feel like dealing with life today. Back when I still had virtually no social life, things were so much simpler.

Out of habit, I immediately sat at my desk and turned on my computer. As the core hummed, waking up with a grumble like I had, I drummed my fingers on my desk.

_Fuck. Fuck fucking fuckitty-fuck. _

That's really all I could think of.

_Fuck. Today's the big day, Kevin. _

_ The dance, you have to go to the dance. You have to dress up and look nice, and you have to dance with Heidi. You have to put up with everyone you hate from school, and they'll all be dressed up and dancing too. This is gonna suck._

_ But wait. Clyde will be there. _

I blinked. What? Where did that little fuck come from?

I shook my head and grumbled. It's Friday; you can get through this.

I smiled in the bright, calming glow that was my login screen. The gateway to the path of escaping reality. Beautiful.

As my desktop loaded, so did all my sticky notes. They were like mushrooms, or bacteria; sprouting up in different places as everything loaded. Some were long overdue and needed to be deleted, but I never got around to it. There were so many, and I didn't want to go through all of them. Plus, I was too lazy.

As if it were some kind of symbolic message, the last sticky note to load was the one I had made of Clyde in a slight fit of rage. I examined it closely.

Damn, how things have changed.

_He's making me find a date to the dance. _

Nope, that one's gotta go. I began tapping the backspace button, then stopped when only _He _was left. I sat and pondered that for a moment. I could work with that.

_He_

I tapped my finger thoughtfully on my desk, thinking of how I could rewrite this.

"He . . . _helped _me," I mumbled, typing quickly to keep up with my thoughts.

_He helped me find a date to the dance._

"That's better," I said aloud to myself, reading the note over.

How could I be mad that I was taking Heidi to the dance? I'll admit, things have been pretty traumatic over the past few days, but not this. I would be stuck doing the same thing I do every year when there's a dance if it weren't for Clyde and his desperate attempts to ask Bebe out. I'd probably be at home, on the computer. Which is generally my idea of a good time, but I don't know . . . something is really different about me this year. I'm looking forward to the dance for a change.

But I know I'm only going with Heidi as a friend. That's what I'm telling myself, anyway. And it's not one of those things that I'm telling myself that I know isn't true. I can guarantee you that. I'm really going with her _as a friend_.

And that's kind of bugging me.

See, when I said something is really different about me this year? Well, some of it is really kind of scaring me and questioning everything I used to know.

I'm really starting to think differently of Clyde . . .

Wait, wait, no. Before you go and think anything, hear me out. You probably think you know what I'm gonna say. Maybe you do, maybe you don't. I bet you know how this story is gonna end and it's gonna be the perfect ending, blah, blah, blah.

But I should tell you that my view of Clyde is changing. But the problem is, I don't know what it's changing into. I suppose I can only wait. And I sure as heck don't want to wait, but I know I'll have to.

The other reminder made me sick. I'm not holding anything back when I say that. I cannot believe I used to think so harshly of Clyde.

He's a fucking idiot.

Okay, I guess I really can believe it. Because he's a fucking idiot. Well, I guess not in the same critical way I used to think. He's an idiot naturally, and that's just that part of him. He's got lots of other qualities, but all I could see before was his stupidity. And I never looked past it, because that's all I thought he was. A plain idiot.

I almost deleted that, but I stopped myself. It is true; that he's a fucking idiot and all. But I should put it in a way that I can smile at, not frown shamefully upon.

I spent a few minutes thinking, and then a few more tak-tak-takking away on my keyboard. When I was done, I smiled with satisfaction and went back and read over what I just typed. I made the sticky note into a kind of little poem, writing little bits of sentences about how he's an idiot, but I'm proud to know him better as a friend now. It made me feel better about myself, knowing that in a way, I had gotten over my stupid ignorance. I'm not going to share what I wrote now, and I probably won't. But don't worry, it's nothing mushy-gushy like that; just some ranty feels.

Honestly feeling better, I pushed my chair in and began to get ready for school. I was hoping that the day would fly by, so I wouldn't have a terrible friday.

* * *

><p>I got to class a little late, and when I sat down, students were already getting up to turn in their reports. I saw Clyde coming back to seat himself, and I smiled at him. He smiled weakly back, and as he sat down, I saw Mrs. Molitor eyeing me curiously. She probably thought it was odd that Clyde had turned in our paper, instead of me. But maybe she liked that change, because I know I did.<p>

Clyde didn't talk to me much for the rest of the day, but only because our classes were unusually busy. Mrs. Molitor kept us focused on taking notes on several chapters of our history book, and the rest of the classes we had felt the same way. Or maybe it was that our minds were occupied with what was to come later, and it only seemed like our teachers were busting us up with loads of work.

All the same, school ended fast. I said a quick good-bye to Clyde as he headed off to football practice. It's really amazing that those meatheads still have their practice in the dead-middle of December. After I gathered my stuff, I made a quick trip to Heidi's locker.

I found her there, messily stuffing books and folders into her backpack. She saw me in her small magnetic mirror, and she turned around with a smile.

"Hey," she greeted, zipping up her bag. "I'm actually really excited for tonight!"

"Heh, yeah," I said, laughing. "I kind of am, too! Which is, unusual, I guess."

She giggled. "Well then, I'm glad you're excited too, or else this would be a drab for me."

"Yeah, and I guess the sky is supposed to be really clear tonight," I told her, recalling what I had heard on the local news this morning.

"Huh?" she said, cocking her head. "Why's that important?"

I looked at her, slightly confused. "Oh, I just thought that it would be cool to have a nice sky during the movie," I told her, my excitement deflating a little, fearing I had said something dumb.

"Ohh, yeah," she said, as if she was remembering a memory from a long time ago. She nodded, but much of the zeal seemed to have drained from her face. "The drive in; right. Yeah, that should be, er, fun," she said, closing her locker, as if she was avoiding looking at me.

My eyebrows knitted together in confusion. "Something wrong?"

She smiled regularly again, looking back up at me as she swung her backpack around her shoulders. "No, it's nothing. Sorry about that." She tapped my arm as she turned to leave, and I followed her. "So what time did you say you were picking me up again?"

"Uh," I said, falling into step beside her. "Around seven thirty."

"Okay, sounds good!" We each placed a hand on the door and pushed open, a gust of frighteningly cold air greeting us. As she spotted her mom's car, she waved and hurried down the steps. "See you tonight!"

I waved back and smiled. As I began stepping down the stairs myself, Bebe suddenly came around the corner and was immediately up in my face, like she was the goddamned paparazzi or something.

"Gee, you two sure are sweet," she said, dragging out every word, batting her eyelashes.

She had her hands clasped together and sighed contentedly. "It'd be a shame if you broke her heart, wouldn't it?"

"Hey, what?" I shot at her, staring her down furiously. "What makes you think-"

"I mean, it's totally obvious you like her and all," she said, really loudly.

"Look, we're going as frie-"

"But won't it be the saddest thing ever to see her mope about you? When you dump her,

or crush her little heart?" She went on, ignoring my futile attempts to argue with her.

I just grumbled in frustration and tried pushing past her. But she was there immediately to block my way again, her face looking much more serious than it had seconds before.

"Kevin, don't ignore this. We can see that you're reluctant to do or say lots of things, and a time will come when you really don't know what to do. But I swear," she said, She pointed a finger and jammed it up in my face, right under my nose. Her eyes narrowed in a very sinister manner, and she continued, "If you hurt that girl or do anything to upset her, I'll make sure to spit on your sorry grave."

Before I could utter a word in reply, she stormed off. I stood there for a minute after she left, dazed out of my mind. I shook my head in bewilderment before finally moving my legs that had turned to stone to walk to my car.

"Freakin weird," I mumbled as I stuck my key in ignition. As I turned on the rumbling engine and pulled out of the lot, I began to think about what she said.

Although it was most likely the voice of the demon that had possessed her, some of what she said had made me think. It made sense, but not that it was about me. Why had she suddenly turned so critical of me? And what made her say that bullshit?

Okay, I guess she was right with her main point. I'm reluctant to admit things, do things, yeah yeah, you know it. But then again, who isn't? At least a little? Maybe she isn't, but that's Bebe. There's no one else like her, and I don't exactly mean that in an encouraging way.

But why did she have to go about it like that? What's her deal, anyway? So what if I don't always want to barge into things before thinking about what I'm actually getting into? And how on earth does something like that tie into hurting Heidi . . ?

All of these questions swam in my head as I drove out of school limits, but none could be answered. It was pretty goddamn frustrating.

When I got home, my mom was in the kitchen, fixing me an early dinner so I could eat before I went to the dance. When I came into the house, she waved her spatula, and a few grains of rice went flying.

"Hey," she said, speaking loudly over the noise of the stove fan. "What time are you going to leave?"

"At like, seven," I replied. I glanced at the nearest clock: it was almost three. "So that means I have four hours to prepare . . . for my final boss battle!" I exclaimed, rubbing my hands in anticipation.

"I don't think so!" she snapped, sharply pointing her spatula at me. I picked a grain of rice out of my hair. "You will be getting ready from now until you leave. You are not going to this party ugly!"

"Well then," I mumbled. "Might as well not go at all," I said, laughing to myself. She threw me a look, and then I hurriedly exited the kitchen.

I went upstairs, threw the door to my room open, and stared longingly at my PS3. She was calling to me, I just knew it. All my games, pleading to be opened just for a bit. I turned. I looked from my games back to my door, and back and forth. If I closed my door, turned the volume down, I could battle a few hundred monsters and no one would ever have to know . . .

I turned around and tiptoed to my PS3 and turned her-I mean it-on, smiling as it softly purred to life. It had been a while since I heard that, I think. I was just about to grab a controller and start playing when I heard someone clear their throat. Caught red-handed, I looked up with an embarrassed grin, hoping I could shake my mom off like usual.

I wasn't her. It was my dad. Damn, I forgot he was going to be home today. Stupid, stupid me! I dropped my controller after a moment's hesitation, not really sure what else to do.

"Uh, hey," I said, trying to be casual. I pushed the controller under the TV stand.

He lifted an eyebrow.

It's not like me and my dad are on bad terms or anything, but it's kind of tense between

us. He's not home most of the time, since he works from about when I get off school to early in the morning. And things have just always been kind of iffy. We kind of lost our means of communication that we used to have when I was a little kid. And it gets really awkward when my mom says that I'm his "spitting image."

He folded his arms and began, "Aren't you supposed to be getting ready for a party?"

"It's a school dance," I corrected him. "And it's in four hours."

"Four hours, huh?" He repeated, stroking his chin. "Your mom didn't tell me that." He eyed the Macy's bag by the foot of my bed, and then my PS3. "You already know what you're going to wear?"

I nodded eagerly. "Yep," I replied hastily, hoping so badly that he would let it slide.

He clicked his tongue. "Okay, go ahead. I won't tell mom."

"Awh, yes!" I rejoiced.

"Just none of those gory, skull-splitting games, okay?" he said, grinning. "And as soon as you've finished dinner, you have to start getting ready."

"No problem," I told him, although I had wanted to play Resident Evil. "Thanks, dad."

He just lifted his chin with a smile and walked out of the room. I sent up a silent prayer of thanks to whoever was up there, if anyone.

I spent most of my time playing Final Fantasy XIII-2, one of my most favorite games yet. I thought the battle-style was absolutely brilliant. Even though I had already gotten through it twice in the short span of time I've had the game, I certainly didn't mind playing it again. My only dislike about it was that it wasn't an RPG. I really love those.

I had been playing for about two hours when I heard my mom call for dinner from down below. Glad to see a save spot in view, I quickly saved my game and turned off the console. That had been some good quality time with the old Play Station. Too bad it had to end so soon.

My mom eyed me suspiciously and slightly angrily as I came down the stairs and into the kitchen. I realized that since I had been playing video games since I got home, my appearance hadn't changed a bit. _So much for getting ready,_ I thought remorsefully to myself.

"You were playing games, weren't you?" she asked critically, scooping stuff onto my plate as I tried to slip into my chair nonchalantly. My dad's eyes flickered up from his paper amusingly.

"Uh . . ." I drawled, coming up short. She raised an eyebrow, and I faltered. "Uh, yeah."

She sighed and handed me my plate. "Whatever. Just hurry up and eat so you can tidy up, okay?"

I nodded and took my plate from her. Home-made orange chicken, fried rice, and vegetable stir fry. I grinned hungrily as I picked up my fork.

Dinner was surprisingly pleasant. With my dad being home, it was more interesting than the one-on-one conversations I usually had with my mom. Everyone seemed a little more lively, and it just had an overall good feeling to it. Maybe my parents were happy about me going to the dance, too, but that makes me sound really lame. I mean, I'm not the coolest kid, but I'm not Napoleon Dynamite or anything.

After dinner, getting ready wasn't hard until my mom stepped into the picture. I had gotten my outfit put on the way I usually wear things, which meant causal looking and comfortable. I brushed my hair a little and did next to nothing else to improve my appearance.

Once she saw me in the hallway, she stopped me, screeching, "You think you can go like that? You've barely made a single attempt to make yourself look charming!"

"Hey, I try my best," I mumbled, shrugging.

"No, no, no. Look here," she said, turning me around and marching me into the bathroom. "You're not going to upset this girl by looking ugly and being a horrible date."

"Harsh, but a good point," I commented one-sidedly.

"You have such a charming look tonight, you'll be the piao liang tù of the party!" she told me excitedly.***

I groaned. "Please don't say that," I told her as she picked up my hairbrush.

"Aww," she cooed, papping my cheek with her free hand. "But we always used to call you little piao liang tù when you were young, and you'd smile from ear to ear!"

"Well I'm not a _little piao liang t__ù_ anymore," I replied, my accent coming out.

She chuckled. "Okay, well then you've grown into a hao kan hǔ!"

I sighed. "I don't know which one is worse," I told her, hoping she would cut it out soon.

She spent a few more minutes brushing my hair, and then moved onto my clothes. She straightened them out and stretched the top down a little so it wasn't so crumpled at my waist. She folded my cuffs back so my hands stuck out all the way.

"If you want to look like the hao kan hǔ you are," she began to say, stepping back to assess her work, "then you can't dress yourself up like a hobo!"

She turned me around to face the full-length mirror at the end of our hall. She stood back and left me to inspect myself. I lifted my shoulders a bit, finding it kind of awkward to have to be doing this.

I guess Clyde and Bebe did a good job with what they picked for me, because my mom was overjoyed. My dad also stopped by to tell me I was "looking sharp," and flashed a smile at me before heading back downstairs. Right before I was about to head into my room, my mom popped out of it, holding a pair of glasses. They were the frameless ones that Bebe had picked out for me, telling me it would look good.

"Are these part of your outfit?" My mom asked, examining them.

"Yeah, I guess so, but I don't really want to wear them," I told her, waving them off with my hand.

"Try them on," she urged me. "They might look nice!"

I let out a brisk breath as I reluctantly took them from her and put them on. I turned back into the mirror, and was actually surprised. They didn't look half bad.

My mom clasped her hands together and smiled. "There; now you look even better!"

The frames were the perfect fit for my facial structure. They held up the jagged tips of my thick bangs, and the black frames greatly defined my blue eyes, making them seem much brighter than usual. I adjusted them, feeling like a much classier version of Clark Kent or something. To me, it seemed like they had kind of put the finishing touch on my outfit. I had a silky ultramarine dress shirt, topped with a black button-up vest and a silver and black tie. I had black jeans with a belt and hanging suspenders that matched the color of my shirt. My shoes were some cheap ripoff of Converse that we found that matched the shirt.

My mom came up behind me, fiddling with the suspenders. "Aren't these supposed to go over your shoulders or something?" she asked, lifting one up and examining it.

"Yeah, but I think that looks weird," I told her.

She clicked her tongue. "You said that about the glasses, too. And look how nice they

are!"

I shrugged. She had a point, and I hadn't even tried it out. I slipped them over my

shoulders and we stood there for a moment, taking in the change.

"Nah," I said quickly.

"Nope," my mom said simultaneously. We laughed as I shrugged them off my shoulders, letting them fall back to my sides.

I checked my phone. 6:52. Heidi said seven thirty, but I was planning on leaving earlier. Soon, actually.

I went downstairs in a flurry, taking my keys and coat off the hanger. My mom barred the door from me, waving her arms frantically and thrusting a camera at me.

"Wha, what?" I spluttered, almost dropping the thing.

"I need to take a picture of you!" she exclaimed.

"Then why'd you give the camera to me?" I asked, my eyebrows knitting together in confusion.

"Oh, I don't know," she replied, slightly flustered. "But let me get a picture of you!"

"Alone?" I asked, dropping my keys into my pocket. "That's weird."

"Ok yeah, it is," she agreed. Then the patted her hair down and took my jacket and

tossed it onto the bench under the coat hanger. "Take one with me!"

I laughed, handing the camera to my dad so he could snap a photo. She'd probably upload this to Facebook, and her and all her friends would talk about me being a little piao liang tù or whatever.

She hugged me snugly around the waist, and all three of us were smiling as the bright flash lit up the room. She patted my shoulder as I put on my jacket and grabbed my keys.

"See you later tonight," she said, squeezing my arm with a bright smile. "Have fun!"

"I will," I replied, as the words _I hope_ quickly flashed in the back of my mind. I shot a quick smile at my dad and opened the door, stepping into the silent but freezing cold night. I quickly made my way to my car, careful not to step in any snow or slush. As soon as I turned the engine on, I turned the heater up past medium and turned down the radio. I backed out, and soon my house was shrinking in the rearview mirror.

As I drove to Heidi's I didn't contemplate much. My mind was pretty much blank, focused on the other cars passing by and turning corners. Jingle Bell Rock came on the radio, and I turned it down a little more. I wasn't quite into the Christmas spirit thing quite yet.

I pulled into her driveway to notice that her house was shining brightly. Christmas lights were strung along the gutters, and almost every light in the house seemed to be on, sending a soft glow through each window. The light from the living room changed insignificantly in brightness every few seconds, and I immediately assumed that the TV was on.

Leaving the keys in my car, I got out and walked up the steps to her front door. I was really trying my luck and hoping she was just about ready, because I realized that if she still needed a lot of time to get ready, that would mean lots of awkward get-to-know-the-parents time for me. I muttered a string of rather impolite words before I rang the doorbell.

I heard the shuffling of feet, and voices that I could tell were loud on the inside, but the door muffled all possible means of understanding it. Within a few seconds, I heard the door emit a dull _chunk _as it was unlocked, and it swung open, catching me in the bright light of the inside of their foyer. I stopped myself from squinting in the light and smiled.

"Hello, you must be Kevin?"

She was a little bit shorter than I was, with a kind face and happy green eyes. She was a little plump, but it gave her a nice mother-y look, if you know what I mean. She was wearing a green sweater with those Scandinavian Christmas pattern that you see on pretty much everything this time of year, and jingle-bell bracelets. She had a necklace that was pretty much a miniature string of Christmas lights, which I have to admit looked pretty cool. She looked a lot like Heidi, at least I could see where she got most of her traits from. They had the same pale, honey-brown hair and broad smiles.

"Yeah," I replied, nodding. Then, remembering to be a little more formal than usual, I brought up my chin a little and added, "Yes, that's me. Does Heidi know I'm here?"

"Oh, yes, she's right upstairs," she said. She stepped aside and pulled the door back, gesturing for me to come in. "It's awfully cold out there; come in and take a seat!"

I smiled gratefully and said a quiet "thanks," while in my head I was repeating _shit shit shit shit shit shit_. She gently closed the door behind me, and I slid off my jacket and hung it over my arm. To my great relief, she didn't offer to take it, which most likely meant that I wouldn't be here for long.

She passed in front of me, catching a quick glance, and told me as she pointed, "My, you are a handsome young man!" I heard my mom saying _hao kan h__ǔ_ in my head, but I quickly pushed that out. Before I could utter an embarrassed thanks, she added, "I'll just go let Heidi know you're here."

I stood there alone as she left to go upstairs. I heard someone shuffling around in the kitchen, but, figuring that it was probably her dad, stayed put. I waited a bit nervously for a few minutes, being totally fucking paranoid and listening for sounds of movement. God, I play too many video games. It's her _dad_, for fuck's sake.

But, praise the Lord above, he poked his head out of the kitchen right when Heidi's mom came back downstairs. I was never more relieved to see her in the vast expanse of the two minutes I had known her.

"She'll be down in just a few minutes," she said to me.

"Okay, great," I replied. I wasn't quite sure to take that as meaning literally a few minutes, or a few minutes in ladyspeak, which would really be like half an hour. I hoped it was the former.

This may not come as a surprise to you, but I was pretty nervous. About tons of shit. But actually, what may surprise you is that I was way more worried about Clyde and Bebe than I was for me and Heidi. Naturally, they aren't the most stable couple, and Bebe's the kind of diva who wants to put on a show when she dumps someone, if you're getting my drift. And I'm supposed to be like, Clyde's right hand man or whatever tonight. I'm not coming home with a snot-nosed Clyde whining about shit I don't care about on my arm. I wouldn't know what to do with him. I'm not good at, er, _comforting _people.

"Make sure she's back back by nine-thirty," her dad told me in a gruff voice. He waved a big finger in my face. "And no funny business!"

I was so close to shitting my pants that it's not even funny. When he smiled and started laughing like a madman, I felt like I was about to faint. I put on my best smile without crying and forced myself to laugh with him.

He slapped my arm more roughly than I would have liked and said, "I'm just playin' with ya. I'm sure you'll take good care of 'er."

"Ha, no problem, sir," I replied, still forcing myself to laugh along with him. Heidi's dad is not the man I would like to be locked in a jail cell with. He had a worn, stony face and grey eyes that looked very tired. His muscles bulged under his shirt, and his facial hair looked like it wanted to lock onto my skull and eat my brains out.

I was about to abort the mission and cartwheel out the front door when we all heard Heidi chime from upstairs, "Alright, I'm coming!"

I let out a sigh. I think it was mainly a sigh of relief, but there was probably a good dollop of nervousness in there, too. We heard her coming quickly down the steps, and her mom turned to me and smiled.

What.

What does that look mean. Please stop giving me that look.

Am I supposed to do something when she gets down here? Like, what the fuck, Heidi's mom. Please. Stop.

Turns out she was just being weird and I didn't have to do anything, because when Heidi came down the stairs, all I did was say "Hey" and take her hand. I have to admit, Bebe did a pretty good job on coordinating our outfits, as far as I could determine. The main body of her dress was the same blue of my shirt, and all the accenting was black. Her jewelery was blue, her shoes were blue, and the silk rose on her black headband was blue. We were like blue and black peas in a pod.

Of course, her parents had to take pictures, but it wasn't long before we were out of the house (thank God) and on our way to the school.

She was buzzing with excitement. "We're gonna dance, right?" she asked.

"Oh, I dunno," I sighed. "I guess we have to, don't we?"

She rolled her eyes in a joking manner, smiling. "Of course we do. And you'll have fun once you start," she told me, as if it were solid fact.

"Hmph," I snorted in response, grinning. "I'm looking forward to seeing Clyde spill the punch bowl all over himself."

She clicked her tongue. "Don't say that," she scolded me, although I could tell that she was trying to suppress a giggle. Then she grew slightly more serious. "Maybe you haven't noticed, but he's been going through a bit of a rough patch."

This wasn't quite news to me. I had noticed a gloomier side of him recently, mainly occurring around Bebe, which was definitely odd. But he'd never said anything about it, which is again, odd. I thought we were close enough so that he would be able to tell me this kind of stuff. But then again, maybe that's just me over-judging things.

"I guess I have," I replied honestly. I turned on my blinker and merged into a line of cars waiting to get into the school parking lot. "But how do you know about it?"

She twiddled her fingers together shyly. "He's kind of desperate about it . . . he doesn't want to tell either you or Bebe, let alone that dickhead Craig. So he kind of just came to me."

I cocked my head. That was interesting. Clyde has some skeletons in the closet, it seems. But the fact that he supposedly felt like he couldn't tell me about it was, to be honest, slightly hurtful. "And I'm guessing that you're not allowed to tell me," I said to her. She smiled, blushing, and shook her head. I snorted. "Figures."

The line of cars started moving, and we inched into the parking lot. God knows why it was taking people so long to find a spot; the place was fucking huge. Maybe laziness got to the best of people, so they were being stupid and trying to find a space closer to the gym. I drove straight on until I found an empty spot without a second thought of how far we'd have to walk.

I got out of my side of the car, and then helped her out of hers. Like, proper people shit. From there we walked through school grounds, until we came to the double doors of the gym. We heard the bass from the music pumping steadily from where we stood, just outside the doors.

Upon walking inside, we both smiled. They did a pretty good job with making the ruddy old gym look nice. They strung christmas lights from every corner, all around the ceiling, and blinking lights in the shape of snowflakes were hung up on the walls. There were people talking in groups, some dancing, and some socializing and eating over at the tables, which were piled high with food. There was even a shiny red sleigh back in the corner where couples and friends could take a picture in.

"Well," I said, turning to her. "What do we do first?"

She looked around, and then back at me. "I don't know this song, so I'm not dancing to it."

She looked at me, slightly puzzled at first from not being able to hear herself speak. Increasing the volume of her voice, she suggested, "Why don't we go look for people to talk to?"

I shrugged. Like who?

"Yeah, okay," I said. She'd probably just make the rounds to say hi to all her girlfriends, and they'd compare dates. Poor Heidi; she only has me to show off.

Ironically, the first group we stumbled upon were not Heidi's friends. It was Craig, Tweek, Token, and Jimmy, dicking around over by the food. Craig was stuffing Tweek's mouth with sweets and soda, claiming he was trying to get him on a "sugar hype." Token rolled his eyes and said they had nothing better to do, and that his date was in the bathroom at the moment. Jimmy was trying to dance or something, and kept saying that he had "ants in my p-p-pants," and he was doing the "b-boogie d-d-dance." Yeah, we didn't stay with them for very long. We wished Token the best of luck with his date, and to Jimmy we wished him luck finding a date. Not in a teasing manner or anything like that. Just something polite to get us moving on.

After them, Heidi began to meet with her friends, and, like I said, they were comparing their dates. I don't think it was in a real serious way, because they kept punching Heidi's arm with silly little grins on their faces. But whatever, I wasn't paying any attention to them and I wasn't gonna start.

When we were walking around the gym for the second time, Heidi suddenly tugged on my arm, looking up at me with wide, excited eyes. "I know this song," she began, looking from me to the dance floor. "C'mon, let's go dance!"

"Wha-Gahh!" I made some stupid ridiculous noise as she pulled me out of the crowd and onto the edge of the group of dancing people. As I listened to the song, I kind of recognized it as some old '80s song or something like that. Something about a train, I think.

"My baby takes the mornin' train," Heidi began to sing gleefully as she took my hand and then my shoulder. It wasn't a very slow song, so I don't know how she expected me to dance to this. Still a bit unsure of dancing instinct, I took her hand and then her waist. "He works from nine to five and then, he takes another home again," she sang, instantly moving into a fast-paced two-step. "To find me waitin' for him!"

After a little, we cut the formal-ish dancing and just kind of pranced around the dance floor. After realizing that no one really knew me and therefore I had nothing to be embarrassed about, I kind of let go and realized that Heidi had been right when she said I'd have fun.

We danced in various informal styles to several more songs (some of which I knew) before we were both tired and decided to get a drink. We made our way over to the punch bowl, and as I poured her a cup, we both spotted Clyde and Bebe making their way through the crowd, greeting other couples. They were both dressed very stylishly, and looked very fancy. Heidi and I exchanged amused glances before growing serious as they approached us.

"Hey you two; you both look amazing!" exclaimed Bebe as she opened her arms for a hug. I tried my best to seem inconspicuous as I veered off to the side, leaving Heidi to be under attack by the cloud of suffocating perfume. "Are you guys having fun yet?"

I held my cup up to my mouth and took a long drink in attempt to avoid conversation.

"Uh yeah," Heidi said hesitantly, glancing quickly at me, and then back. "We danced quite a bit, actually."

Bebe smiled even more, and Clyde grinned to his best ability. Now that I thought about it, Heidi was right; he seemed very off and not like his usual self. It was unsettling, since I knew that taking Bebe to a dance had been his biggest dream, since like, forever.

"Well great!" she exclaimed, patting Heidi's cheek-who suddenly seemed a little uncomfortable. Then she tugged on Clyde's arm. "I guess we'll go do that too. See you two love-birds in a bit!"

With a giggle, they were off.

Love-birds? Really? ….Whatever.

Heidi sighed and then sat down in a chair at the table. I sat next to her.

Not really confident enough to ask her if she was okay, I decided to talk about neither of us. "So . . . Clyde," I began, eyeing her. "You were right about him being sullen a lot."

She nodded, looking up. I cannot emphasize just how relieved I was to see that she wasn't crying.

"Yeah," she replied, pushing a lock of hair behind her ear, "But I don't think you really have to worry about it."

"What? Why not?"

She shrugged, a smile dancing across your lips. "Oh, I dunno. But he told me that you shouldn't worry about it. Or him." She gave a dismissive wave of her hand. "Besides, I think you'll probably find out soon enough."

I didn't ask any further. I didn't see any point in doing so. So for about a half hour, we just sat down and talked to friends who came and went. I met a couple more of Heidi's friends, and we both talked to Token and Nichole for a little bit, who seemed to be enjoying their time together.

"Uh, I'm going to the bathroom real quick," Heidi announced, standing up.

"Okay," I said after taking a drink of my soda.

As she started to walk away, the song changed, and I noticed that it was vaguely familiar to me. The beat started going, and I recognized it as the song that Clyde had shown me on his iPod not too long ago.

Speak of the devil; as I looked up, I saw him walking towards me, no Bebe at his side. I sat up a little straighter.

Before I had a chance to even open my mouth, he said abruptly, "We should dance."

I stared at him. "Uh . . . come again?"

"We," he said, pointing first to himself then to me, "should dance." He finished by ballroom dancing with air. When he turned back to me, he was smiling.

I scooted up to the edge of my chair. Maybe he had done drugs in the past hour or something. I glanced around for Bebe, but she was nowhere in sight.

"Why don't you dance with Bebe?" I asked, peering up at him. Remembering what he had told me, I added, "Anyway, I thought this song reminded you of her or whatever."

"Oh come on, I lied," he said, shaking his head. "Bebe's not worth a crap."

Well, that came out plain and simple.

Something in the way my foot was tapping along to the beat wanted desperately to get out there and dance with him. But the rest of me was screaming no. And to be honest, I wasn't going to go on gut feeling that was coming from my foot.

_Ooh la la, I'm fallin in love_

"Uhh, I . . . I don't think so," I said hesitantly. I scooted back all the way in my chair.

_And it's better this time, than ever before_

Clyde sighed. "Please dude," he asked, bouncing one of his legs.

_Ooh la la, I'm fallin in love_

I could feel my face beginning to flush furiously. "W-why?" I stammered.

_And it's better this time, than I've ever known_

"Because," he said, stepping forward and reaching for my hands. "This song makes me think of you, not Bebe!"

_I have fallen in love . . . _

My mouth fell open. I didn't and couldn't believe my ears. I thought maybe the music was too loud and I had misheard him. Heidi's words rang in my head: _Don't worry, you'll find out soon enough!_

Dumbstruck, I stood up. I was about to take his hands and-

"Oh, there you two are!" Bebe shouted as she ran in between us. "Let's ditch this place and go to the drive-in already!"

Immediately I took it as my chance of escape, and grabbed Heidi's wrist and pulled her away.

"Okay yeah, meet you there!" Heidi called out behind her at Clyde and Bebe. Then she turned to me and hissed, "What's your problem?"

I made no attempt to reply. I made my way out of the gym as fast as possible, thanking god that we had parked away from where Clyde had.

Seeing that that wasn't the proper approach, she tried again, with more concern. "Kevin, what's wrong? Are you okay?"

"I-I uh," I began, stuttering as I fumbled with my car keys. "I just found out what you were talking about. Clyde."

I unlocked the doors, and we both hopped in. She smiled a little. "Did you now?" she asked, her eyes twinkling. "Then why were you so quick to flee? Don't tell me you don't feel the same way."

I stared at my steering wheel, and then at her. Moments passed before I spoke. "Because," I hissed, slapping my hand down on her seat, making her jump. "I'm scared!"

Her head slowly tilted to the side. "You're . . . scared?"

I sighed and let my hand fall, and I slide back in my own seat, feeling deflated. I nod my head.

"Yes. I'm scared shitless out of my mind. Because I'm going to be honest with you when I say I've felt this way for a while. But it's super fucking crazy when you realize that it's actually real!" You slap your hands over your face, and dig your nails into your forehead. "I wasn't prepared for this. This is fucking crazy. I'm not ready."

After a few moments of silence, I felt a soft tap on my shoulder. I peered at her from a crack between two of my fingers.

"Hey," she said, smiling kindly at me. "Being scared shitless is part of life. And we're trying to enjoy that right now."

She touched my car keys and beamed at me. "C'mon. We have a movie to see."

My hands slid down from my face, to reveal a small, grateful smile. I didn't think I needed to say anything out loud about how fantastic she is.

I stuck my keys in the ignition and turned on the engine, and I backed out of the parking lot and headed to the drive-in.

* * *

><p>When we pulled into the drive-in, the previews were already rolling. Which I guess was fine, but I personally love to watch movie previews. I dunno.<p>

I asked Heidi if she wanted to try and find Clyde's car, so we could park next to them. I didn't think it was necessary to, but I don't know what she would've wanted.

"Um, nah," she said, with something I took as slight hesitation in her voice. "We can just find any old spot. We don't have to be anywhere near them."

I shrugged, trying to ignore the feeling of dread that I was getting from her. "Alright," I replied casually, driving around to the emptier side of the parking lot.

The movie we were seeing was The Lucky Ones, some chick flick. I'd heard that The Amazing Spider-Man was also playing tonight, which I'd way rather see. But it wasn't my choice, and I guess I'm fine with anything. It's not like I have to love the movie. Or pay attention to it.

We both sat there, a respective but not unusual distance from each other, watching the movie. Neither of us was gonna do any talking, because I could tell she was into the movie, and I have to admit, I was getting a little into it, too. We both laughed and smirked at funny parts, and she smiled at the romantic parts, while I simply waved them off. It was nice though, being able to sit there in silence, just being content with each other's presence. I didn't feel like I had to make conversation, which was great. I was happy with just silently watching the movie, and I really felt like she was, too. It was a good feeling to get my mind off of things for the time being. I mean, I guess I really should be thinking about this whole situation, but, me being me, of course I didn't.

About halfway through the movie, she asked me, with her eyes still focused on the screen, "Hey, Kevin . . . how quick are you to judge a person?"

I looked at her in surprise, not saying anything for a moment. "Um . . ." I said slowly. She was totally serious, and I didn't know how on earth to answer that. I don't judge people too much, because first of all I don't know too many, and second of all, I don't like to be judged by others. "Not very quick, I guess. Uh, why?"

For a few moments, she didn't say anything. She only blinked a few times. I was about to shrug and face the screen again, when she opened her mouth to speak.

For a second longer, no sound came out, until she finally said, "Because I don't want you to judge me."

This piqued my interest. I gazed at her, waiting for her to continue. I didn't know if she was just being philosophical or something, saying weird things that didn't really pertain to me. But I was guessing otherwise.

"I won't judge you," I offered, seeing that she was actually waiting for me to reply. "Heidi?"

She turned to me, her green eyes locking with mine. "You know all this, this, crazy shit that's been happening to you lately? With Clyde and Bebe and stuff?"

My mouth fell open a little. Like I said, I'm not quick to judge people, but this was going downhill fast. I kinda had enough trauma for the night already, and I didn't know what else I could take. But I mean, it's only Heidi, right? Ha, what kind of blow can this innocent girl be capable of delivering to me . . ?

I swallowed. ". . . Yeah?"

"Well," she said, her voice cracking. Then her words spilled out almost uncontrollably, "It's all my fault. I'm so sorry. It's probably been hell for you, but it has for me, too! I owed Bebe, she gave me money for it, and at first Clyde thought it'd be a good idea too, but now it's all wrong, it's all so terribly wrong. Now Clyde's pissed off about everything and Bebe's jealous and I have no idea if I'm still supposed to do anything or not, but knowing Bebe I probably do—"

"Heidi."

"And now you have to deal with it too because I'm a terrible person and I can't do anything right and I'm so fucking stupid! I can't believe I agreed to this in the first place. But I don't think you understand how much pressure I was put under! It was insane, I literally had no choice, but now everything is screwed up, well, I guess it was from the start, but—"

"Heidi!" I shouted, clasping a hand over her mouth. "Stop!"

I let go of her mouth, and she took a deep breath in, and started sobbing. I quickly took her hand, which was trembling, and pushed her bangs out of her face. She couldn't look me in the eye, and I found it almost hard to look at her too, crying as she was. And I didn't even know what for.

"Heidi," I said softly, wiping a stream of tears off her cheek with my thumb. "Heidi, take in a deep breath. I . . . I have no idea what you're talking about."

I held her like this for maybe a minute more, then she finally calmed down and looked back up at me. She wiped her eyes and sniffled, but she still didn't smile.

"I swear up and down I was forced to do it," she sobbed. "It was all Clyde's and Bebe's idea. Clyde said it would be best for you, and Bebe agreed. Plus, I owed Bebe a huge favor, I guess."

"What on earth did you owe her for?" I asked, trying to avoid the big question. Fuck, I shouldn't be doing that.

"I used t-to be _fat_," she spat out. "She gave me pills and stuff to help me lose the weight. They made me puke a lot, but it was like I couldn't stop using them once I started. And she said they were hard to come by, so I was in her debt." She held back a sob, as if the memories were physically painful. I listened in shock. "And she gave me some cream stuff to help heal scars. I had taken a knife and cut the stretch marks I used to have, hoping that new skin would grow over, and they'd be gone. Of course that didn't happen."

If it weren't for the glove box and parking brake that was setting us apart, I would've been hugging her very, very tightly. I had no idea she was so insecure, and that she had been through so much conflict with herself. She never, ever seemed like that type to me. But unfortunately, those things _were_ separating us, so I could only hold her hand tightly, and stoke the side of her face.

Now I wanted to ask her what she had to do for them, and more importantly, how it had anything to do with me. But I knew that was so fucking selfish, that I didn't even try. I waited patiently for her to calm down once more, until she could tell me everything without any prompting.

"Oh my god . . . they said, they said it would benefit the both of us, and it would be no big deal. That it would totally be a secret . . . and they reminded me how desperate I am, and how everything would just get better from there . . ." she was breathing quickly again, but she was still good enough to keep talking to me. I felt her hand trembling again.

She finally squeezed my hand back, as if she had gained strength. "Y-you know what they were gonna make me do? They said we needed to . . ."

My stomach dropped. Or, it rose into my chest, I have no idea. She didn't need to finish, it all made sense. And she saw that I understood in my eyes, because she closed her mouth and said no more. Of course, maybe a little while ago, Clyde would've thought it was a good idea for two virgins to get together, but heck, I was so sure he was regretting it now. And it totally seems like something that Bebe would set up.

I sat there for a couple minutes, my face burning red. Yeah, it was pretty fucked up. Finally, without saying anything, I slipped my hand out of hers and turned the engine of my car on. It was time to go home. I stepped on the gas, nearly crashing into a couple other cars. We were out of the drive-in within tens of seconds, and then I was speeding through the neighborhoods, not slowing until I was on Heidi's street. I slowed in front of her house, the bright Christmas lights shining through the windshield.

I parked, and then got out of the car. I opened her side, offered her my hand, and pulled her up.

As we were walking up her driveway to her steps, she murmured, "Don't be mad at me."

"I'm not."

"Don't lie, either."

"I'm not mad at you," I reassured her, giving her a light hug around the waist. "I'm definitely mad at someone else."

Taking my words to be the truth, she smiled weakly, and god, it was the best thing I had seen all night. She wiped out her tears as best as she could, and I hoped she had something clever in mind to tell her parents if they noticed.

I walked her up the steps, and before she opened door, she turned around to hug me tightly.

"I'm sorry you got so involved in all this," she said. "But good luck, too."

Before I could reply, she turned away with a smile and went through the door, softly closing it.

I stood out there numbly in the cold for a second. I wondered if she was doing the same thing on the other side of the door. And I wondered what Clyde was doing.

God, I was so fucking angry. I could care less about being a part of this, because I have no doubt that I could've dealt with everything myself. But after hearing what Heidi had to do with it? My blood was just boiling.

If I had any clue where Clyde, or even Bebe, was at the given moment, I would've went straight there to tell them off. And get things straight. And who does Clyde think he is? He thinks he can just mess around with the two of us like that, and then suddenly turn around and, and, and . . .

I sighed and slumped against one of the wooden posts on either side of the front steps.

And what?

Say he likes me?

I trudged back to my car, leaving foot prints in the lightly falling snow. I slid in, turned on the engine, and slowly backed out of her drive way. I cruised slowly through the neighborhood this time around, heading for home.

_But how can I be angry at him when I feel the same way?_

I yanked the steering wheel to the left and hammered down on the gas, speeding out of the residential area. I headed down a familiar road, not even glancing at the sign that read Stark's Pond as it flashed by.

I drove slowly onto the grass and parked my car, cutting the engine and stumbling out in frustration. I figured that my night was over and that I'd probably burn this suit later, so I seated my ass down on the bank in the snow, dragging my knees up to my chest. I folded my arms over my knees and nestled my head there, just staring out onto the lake.

After I had stared out angrily at the water for a number of minutes, I looked around me. There were a few, maybe three or four, couples huddled together, a couple on the hoods of their cars. I snarled from behind my sleeves. They probably thought they were in love. Did they really think it was that fucking simple? It was starting to make me sick, so I turned away and looked back out on the lake once again.

I don't know how long I sat there. I was freezing, shivering, and all my limbs and everything on my face was numb. I was 100% sure that I would be catching pneumonia and probably hypothermia by the end of the night. But that would be okay. Because then I wouldn't have to talk to people.

I heard the engine of a car coming into the lot, and I grumbled as I thought of it probably being another couple "in love." Maybe I should just leave. Sitting there in the snow, freezing my ass off, really wasn't helping anyone, and it looked like things were getting a little crowded, anyway. I decided to sit there until I couldn't feel my elbows. Ten more minutes, maybe?

I had my eyes closed, breathing in the cold, when I heard someone's footsteps crunch behind me.

". . . Kevin?"

I cringed. I didn't say anything for a few seconds, and neither did he.

This was not happening. This really was not fucking happening.

I turned my head back just slightly.

"The fuck do you want."

There was a moment's hesitation before he replied. I saw his feet shuffle slightly out of the corner of my eye.

"I figured you might be here," he murmured.

"Well that's fucking great," I spat. "Congratulations."

There was an even longer pause, and I thought he was going to walk away. Which I wouldn't have felt bad for. Because honestly, I didn't know what the fuck I wanted.

I heard him clear his throat. "I came to . . . apologize," he said softly.

His words pierced my ears like knives. I bolted onto my feet in a second, glaring at him.

"Apologize?" I repeated. "Apologize?"

I was furious. His hazel eyes had opened wide, and he was obviously startled. But I didn't want any of this bullshit. Not now, not ever.

He opened his mouth to say something, but for a moment, no sound came out. He finally stuttered, saying, "I-I really thought t-that you . . ."

"That I what? Huh?" I snapped, taking a step back, away from him. "What did you think about me, Clyde?"

He stood there, speechless. I could tell he wasn't expecting me to be so angry.

"I know," I began, fuming. "I know all about your plan with Bebe, the one involving Heidi and I. It's sick. I can't believe that you were in on it! I don't even know why I'm talking to you right now."

His facial expression had switched to totally surprised, sorry, to something clouded. A mixture of feelings. I couldn't tell what it was harboring.

"Kevin," he said, giving a quick shake of his head. "Kevin, you don't get it."

"I don't?" I scoffed. "Alright, fine. What don't I get?"

He glared at me and but his lip, as if he was having a major struggle with finding something to say.

"Everything!" he snapped. "Everything and anything! You don't get any of it!"

"Yeah? Well looks like you don't either!

We glared at each other, both equally angry. Well, maybe. I don't know if he could match my anger; not now, not ever.

This really wasn't how things were supposed to go down. It's not how I wanted them to go down. I admit, I felt defeated. Like, I had slipped up and done something wrong to make this all go awry.

But now wasn't the time for remorse. I was damn angry.

"I can't talk to your right now," I said in a low voice, trying not to boil over. "I'm not going to."

I began to push past him, when he grabbed my collar and pulled me back, my feet slipping on the bank. "If you would just, just . . . listen!"

"Fuck you!" I shot at him.

Frustrated, he heftily pushed me away. My heel landed unsteadily on a slab of frozen grass, and I felt my feet, stumbling, trying to get a firm grasp on dry grass. There was none. I was falling, so quickly, but it seemed like a lifetime.

As the back of my head broke through the ice and hit the freezing water, the last thing I saw was Clyde turning around, extending his hand.

Then I went numb, and everything was black.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N:** Well, here it is. After like, 8 months of leaving you guys on a cliffhanger, the final chapter is here. I promised you guys I would do it, so I did! It's here, its long, and it's the end of this story. Sorry you guys had to wait so long for this...I sure hope this ending satisfies you all.

_ALSO,_ I'll be **changing my username** a few days after this chapter has been up. Probably** tikiwrites**, if it's available, so it matches my tumblr and deviantart. Just a head's up for you guys!

REVIEWS!

dotdotdanii: haha, thanks for the long comment. if anyone should be apologizing, that would be me! it took me so long to finally finish this. im glad youve enjoyed the story so far, and all its little odds and ends, and i hope you like this ending as well. thanks for being such a good reader and supporter throughout all this!

il: thank you! i like to create emotion haha. glad to see i succeeded! i hope this chapter fills you up with all kinds of new feelings and emotions. thats what would make my day. u w u

NadoSranghae: aw jeez thanks for speaking up, you silent reader you! i have kept writing, albeit very slowly, so i hope this is some good candy for your stolovan feelings. silent readers are appreciated! :D

Kelsey: gosh what a nice review! it was fun to write, so im glad you had fun reading it. and YES, WHAT A CLIFF HANGER! and i left you there for so long. gosh im so sorry about that...eeeee but hey! heres the ending! read up, bookworms!

bluegirlalexis: hehehe. HEHEHE. alexis youre too damn sweet. im so glad you like what i write, because i love sharing stories and imagination! creating emotion is what i love to do! theres no way around it, writing is one of my passions. if you almost cried in the last chapter, i hope you squeal for this one. love you xoxoxoxo !

Red-SouthPark: thanks! and yep, heres the chapter 8. ehehe.

Catherine: again, thanks so much for the awesome review! either youre reading this because you were notified, or i emailed you. maybe both. but here it is, the final installment in the stolovan chronicles! thanks so much for all the reviews youve left throughout this story...!

TO EVERYONE: here it is! the final chapter is finally up! thanks for reading this and sticking with me through to the end. you guys are good readers. stay dedicated, dont stop reading, and dont stop writing! see you guys around, i hope. :)

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><p><strong>CHAPTER 08<strong>

It was the slowest, heaviest, most lagging feeling I think I had ever experienced. My head was pounding, my vision blurry and dark, and my throat dry. Nonetheless, I opened my eyes, took in a deep breath, and looked around.

In a bed, wearing clothes I didn't recognize. An IV in my arm, the smell of cleaning supplies filling my nostrils.

A hospital. I was in Hell's Pass hospital.

I looked around, only my eyes moving. There was a nurse behind a curtain, shuffling around a sink, and making soft metallic noises as she organized her equipment. And there my parents sat, in two arm chairs by the window. My mom was tapping her foot restlessly, nose buried in a cooking magazine. My dad was asleep, I think. His head was tilted to the side, resting in his palm, and his eyes were closed.

It was almost awkward for a second. My first thought was to close my eyes and try to go back to sleep, because for some reason I almost felt afraid to talk to them. Like, what were they thinking right now? What were they going to say? And how would I answer their questions . . ?

Deciding to man up, I cleared my throat. My mom's eyes flickered up from her reading, and then her mouth fell open when her eyes met mine.

"Kevin . . ?" she breathed, slowly lowering her magazine. I smiled weakly. She put a hand on my dad's shoulder, jostling him awake. "Hey, he's awake!"

My dad woke with a start, blinking furiously. "Wha—huh?" he spluttered, shaking himself awake. But my mom was already out of the chair, making her way over to my bedside. Hearing the commotion, the nurse also peeked out, then smiled as she saw me awake, and nimbly followed behind my mom, waiting for our exchange to be over.

"Ah, Kevin!" my mom exclaimed, taking my hand and gently pressing a hand to my cheek. Squeezing my hand, she asked, "How are you? Are you . . . oh gosh are you okay?"

I didn't have an answer. Naturally, that would probably be the first thing out of her mouth. And I get that. But, how the fuck do I even answer that? I didn't know if I was okay or not. Physically, well, that was up to the doctor to tell. I sorta felt like shit, with all the head pounding and numbness in my knees and toes and whatnot. But mentally? Hell, I didn't know how long I had been out, who had come to visit me (and who hadn't), and how to tell my parents why I was here.

As my dad appeared next to her, I just gave my mom's hand a weak squeeze back. "I uh, I don't know," I murmured, bringing a concerned frown to both of their faces. I sighed, trying to avoid looking in their eyes. "I'm sorry."

My mom immediately began to shake her head. "It's okay, it's okay," she assured me, leaning over to plant a kiss on my forehead. "You've been through a lot. No one's blaming you for anything."

Yeah, well, I can think of someone who probably is. But of course, I kept this remark to myself.

"You've been out for days," my dad informed me, raising his eyebrows. "We've all been worried sick about you."

I cocked my head to the side, peering at him. "All?" I questioned.

My mom nodded. "Your friends stopped by," she said, eyes sliding over past my head, to a nightstand on my other side. I hadn't even looked there. "Lots of times."

I turned away from them to glance over at the nightstand. There was a small collection of cards, candies, and a few other things. I decided to look through them later; my parents were more important now.

I opened my mouth to say something, but within seconds I felt my voice blank out, my head spinning, my eyes slowly closing. It felt like being lightheaded for a moment, and in a second my vision blurrily came back.

Except, my head was on my pillow, and my parents weren't there anymore. The nurse was all the way on the other side of the room.

"Wha . . . what?" I breathed to myself, glancing around. What just happened? I was only out for like, a second, right?

The nurse, seeing me wake once again, smiled as she put her clipboard down. Walking over to me, she said, "Ah, I see you're up again. You feeling alright?"

I simply blinked at her, still in shock. ". . . What just happened?"

She glanced at me from over her shoulder as she messed with the bedside equipment. "You fell unconscious. We were afraid that was going to happen."

I just looked at her quizzically, and once she was done adjusting the equipment, she turned to me and smoothed down the front of her skirt. "You're still very weak, Kevin," she explained to me, in that soft, concerned voice. "We were afraid that this was going to happen. And, unfortunately, it might become a frequent thing. That ice water certainly did take its toll on you, and your immune system was not the strongest to begin with."

I listened dully as she explained what was happening to my body right now, about how I'd be passing out, feeling numb sometimes, having a dry throat, and a pounding head. Probably stuff I should care about, but honestly, I could really care less. I kind of just wanted her to shut the fuck up and go away. I didn't care about how much of an expert she was on my damn hypothermia.

"But you'll be out of here before you know it," she finished cheerily, snapping my attention back to her. I offered a brief smile, and with that, she turned back around to attend to her medical priorities.

I sat in my bed, staring at the small peaks at the end of the bed that were my feet. I couldn't feel my toes. It was a pretty weird feeling. The IV monitor beeped softly next to me, which directed my attention towards the nightstand littered with things from my friends. Friends? Yeah, I guess I had acquired one or two over the past few weeks. I scooped up the pile of cards, dumping them on my lap. What remained on the stand were two separate bouquets, a small box of assorted holiday chocolates, and a coffee mug with a note attached inside.

Deciding to read through the cards first, I picked one up, flipping the envelope over to see who it was from. All it said was _Stoley_ on it, so with a shrug, I tore it open to take a look at the card.

Ah. Just upon seeing the cover, I could tell who it was from. The cover image was scribbled over and defaced with sharpie, and a lot of it. Craig. He's the only one that can get away with his cruel sense of humor. If it had been anyone else who said some of the things in his card, you would've blown a top. But you actually laughed at what he wrote.

There was a card from Token, with a crisp $100 bill tucked into the card. Whoa dude. And he wrote like, a paragraph full of his "condolences." Wait, some of it was actually kind of funny. But he was totally giving that money back. Yeah sure, it probably didn't make a difference to Token, but wow a hundred bucks is a lot, no matter what the occasion. Good old Token.

There was a card from Bebe, too. At first, I thought about just tossing it aside, but I felt like that would be pretty inconsiderate. Even if she did have a huge fucking role in this mess, I still felt like I should have some respect. So I opened it and read scanned through it, smelling her eye-watering perfume and blinking stupidly at her pink, bubbly writing. Well, she sounded sincere enough. With a shrug, I tucked the card back into its envelope and put it with the others.

There were some other cards, all from people who I guess had heard about me landing myself in the hospital. A card from Butters, one from Jimmy, a card from Stan, Kyle, and Kenny, and a pair of chopsticks from Cartman. What a racist bastard.

Naturally, there was a card from Heidi. The message inside was simple, flattering, but not without a slight sense of humor. It made me smile, because I could totally imagine her reading it out loud in my head. But it also made me really sad. What did she think about all of this? Obviously what was written in a card wasn't nearly enough for her to explain what was really going on inside her head. I sighed. I wished she was there, so I could talk to her in person. Get a good conversation going, throw a few things out there. And let her know the real fucking reason I was lying in a hospital.

I nimbly put her envelope away, tossing it onto the night stand. I picked up the last card in my lap, one without any writing whatsoever on the envelope. I opened it, knowing that there was only one person left who would give me a card. Biting my lip in frustration, I tore the card out, flipped it open, and began to read.

I bit down harder on my lip with every word, and my eyebrows knitted together furiously. Fuck him. _Fuck. Him._

With a scowl, I shoved the card back into the envelope, throwing it down on the nightstand. I let out a angry breath of air, blowing my bangs out of my eyes. I couldn't even believe him.

Wanting to push it out of my head, I picked up a small flower vase, intent on reading the small tag to see who it was from. But as I lifted it, I noticed something soft behind it, and pulled it out to reveal a small toy.

It was a light blue teddy bear, with a silver satin ribbon and beanie pellets in its stomach, with a velvet white nose. I flipped over the tag, to see _Heidi_ marked on it with a happy face and a small heart. I grinned. He was soft, reasonably sized, and my favorite color. I smoothed down the fur on the top of his head before placing him beside me on the bed. I'll definitely have to thank her later.

Turns out the flowers were from both Heidi and Clyde, but a small note was attached that explained how Clyde had picked them out. Which surprised me, because the flowers were actually really neat. It was a Gardenia and Tiger Lily mix, and it smelled relatively pleasant. And they looked cool. I shrugged, placing them carefully back on the night stand. And the huge bouquet behind it was, of course, from my parents. It was filled with a huge assortment of flowers, and it smelled pretty goddamn good. They were cool, sure, but what do I even do with flowers? Keep them in my room until they die? That's sort of depressing. Whatever.

The candies and coffee mug I had mentioned earlier were from Tweek. Inside the mug was a little note that explained his sympathy for me, and that the candies were for my enjoyment while I stayed at the hospital. And inside there was a packet of hot cocoa, that he suggested I asked the nurse to make when I wasn't feeling so hot.

That was pretty cool of him. The mug was light blue with a cubical design in greyscale. And it was impressive, and definitely appealing to my eyes. It reminded me of video games, computers, science, math, everything I thought was cool. Just some cubes that were different shades of grey. Pretty nifty, if you ask me.

With a sigh, I leaned back in the bed. My eyes flickered towards Clyde's card again, and my fingers twitched to grab it again. I hesitated for a minute, wondering if I had judged too harshly the first time around. And, knowing me, I probably had. So with a grumble, I snatched it off the nightstand and opened it up.

_Dear Kevin_

_I feel terrible for saying this, but I don't know what to write in this card. I hope you get better soon, and you can come back to school before Christmas. A lot of people miss you, more than you probably think. And I'm really sorry for everything. Not an ounce of it is your fault._

_Like I said, I really have no idea what to say in this dumb card. I want to talk to you in person, I really do, but you've been asleep or unconscious or whatever every time I go to see you. I hope we can talk soon, and maybe you can try to hear me out. I understand if you don't want to though. It's been a hell of a fucking ride for you, and it's all my fault. I'm sorry._

_Clyde_

I blinked, unnerved by what I had just read. Okay, yeah, it sounded like he really meant it. It wasn't some fake bullshit that he made up on the spot and jotted it down on the card. It was almost like I could actually feel the frustration that he felt when he was trying to write it down.

I closed my eyes, falling back into my pillow. I fumbled with the card, sloppily shoving it back into the envelope and tossing it onto the night stand. I just didn't feel like dealing with anything. This whole situation was shitty and ironic, and I was still having a hard time with believing that I was the one in the middle of it all.

Like, wow. When I actually started thinking about it, there were so many questions. The main one being: what did I even do to get here? Like, choice by choice, all the little events that were seemingly harmless all led up to one giant clusterfuck. All because of who? Was it really all Clyde's fault, like I was telling myself? Or was it just as much my fault?

It was harder than you might think to come to a conclusion. Now, a normal person would probably put a lot of the blame on themselves. But I am not a normal person. I took my time to logically figure this shit out, taking steps to see who's decision was what and which faults led where. And still, I figured that most of it wasn't my fault. My biggest mistake was probably going with the flow of it all, not stopping to think about what I was heading into, and when I would crash. And, well, look where that landed me.

I was frowning grumpily at myself, when the voice of the nurse startled me.

"You've got some wonderful friends," she said quietly, looking up from the small counter at which she was organizing things. "You know that?"

I kept my sigh inside my chest. I really did not want to talk to anyone, especially not this fucking nurse. Eh, she was probably really nice and all, but she caught me when I was wallowing in self-pity and with sharp needles of arrogance digging into my brain. Not a wise choice on her part.

Swallowing a snarky comeback, I asked in reply, "What . . . what do you mean?"

Holy shit.

My throat was really dry. I blinked in surprise at how hoarse and raspy my voice was, and put a hand snugly over my adam's apple. She definitely noticed it too, because she got a cup out and filled it with cold water from tap, walking over and handing it to me.

"Here; drink it in little sips," she instructed as I took the cup from her. I brought it up to my lips, trying to do as she said, but my desert of a mouth really wanted to chug it all down. I just blinked at her from above the rim of the cup as I drank, waiting for her to further explain herself.

"There were two that came back repeatedly," she told me, sitting in a stool that was made just for her, probably to tend to me while I was out or something. She smiled and added, "Besides your parents of course."

I raised an eyebrow and swallowed one last gulp of water before asking, "Really? Who?"

"A boy and a girl," she said, her eyes traveling up to the ceiling as she thought. "You all look about the same age, now that I think about it. They both had brown hair, if I'm recalling this right. Maybe the girl was blonde? I'm sorry, I'm not all too sure if I remember."

"Oh," was all I said, raising the cup back up to my lips and getting ready to finish the whole thing.

Clyde and Heidi, undoubtedly. There was no mistaking it. Besides, who would come to visit me more than once anyway? I guess it made me feel a little better to know that they were genuinely concerned about me, or at least somewhat.

Wait. I narrowed my eyes and stopped drinking, lowering the cup.

"Um. How long have I been unconscious?" I asked, turning to face her. My dad had told me that I had been out for days, but now I wanted an approximation.

"It's been almost a week," she said softly, crossing her legs and tapping her foot patiently. "You took a pretty brutal blow there."

I just nodded, staring at her blankly, eventually finding myself staring into my cup, watching the last few beads of water bounce when I squeezed the cup.

Almost a week. Nearly seven days. And both Heidi and Clyde had come back several times to see me?

". . . O-okay, thanks," I murmured, drumming my fingers on the neck of the cup. I gazed down at the light blue blanket I was resting in, not really wanting to make eye contact with her. I kind of just wanted her to not be so close. Still in the room, but not sitting next to me like she was my grandma or something.

She nodded. "Don't be shy to ask if you need anything," she said with a sweet smile before sliding off the chair and going back to her precious little medical cabinet.

I bit down on my lip. I wanted them to be here, now. I wanted to talk to Heidi, let her know I was okay, for the most part. I also really wanted to check in and see how she was doing, because I really hoped she wasn't deeply affected by this. But I felt a sharp stab of guilt in my side, because I realized that of course it had affected her deeply. If it hadn't, she wouldn't have come here multiple times, wouldn't have left the thoughtful gifts. And I felt like it was just part of her personality to feel like she was to blame for this, with her insecurity and whatnot. As all the realization set in, I only wanted more and more for her to be there. Tell her that it was okay? I guess it would take a few times of saying that to finally convince her. Tell her that absolutely none of this was her fault? Definitely. I was going to pound that into her head, no matter how many times I had to try and pull the feeling of responsibility out of her.

My head fell back against the pillow and I gave a loud, heavy sigh. I really wanted her there. Fuck. I guess I'd just have to wait for the next time she stopped by. Hopefully I was awake, or conscious, for that matter.

Clyde . . .

I closed my eyes, my fingers fidgeting in frustration. Part of me was afraid to find out how I would react when I talked to him. I figured that I would probably explode on him. Which is likely what he was expecting. But, as an initial reaction, I felt like that really just wasn't fair, at all. There was something clawing away inside of me that was screaming at my dumb, ignorant brain to give him a second chance. But everything else was getting pissed at just the thought of him, and I knew that I didn't have it in me to push those urges down and listen to that desperate little conscience. I grumbled at myself.

I also really wanted him to be there. And maybe try to get things figured out, after I verbally beat his ass. Because it was inevitable that a beating was going to take place, no matter how hard I tried to hold myself back. Because there were a lot of angry fucking words inside of me that weren't gonna cut like warm butter. But I was really a mess, and who knows what else was inside me that I needed to get out. Sadness? Frustration? Possibly a little empathy? Bleh, I didn't want to think about it. It would come out naturally if it was important.

I had just woken up, and already things were getting fucking frustrating. I sighed, leaned over the edge of the bed, and gingerly picked up the mug from Tweek.

"Uh, excuse me," I called, not sure how to address the nurse. I lifted the mug and took out the cocoa packet and asked, "Do you think you could heat up some water?"

It might be a long day.

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><p>I had sat around doing nothing for a long time, because I couldn't do anything anyway. Eventually the nurse—who turned out to be named Sandra—asked me if I wanted to turn the tv on, and I jumped on the opportunity. Because I was just sitting there rotting in my own shitty thoughts.<p>

My episode of Ellen was interrupted with a knock at the door. My eyes flickered towards it, briefly wondering who it could be. I had no idea when visiting hours were, so for all I knew, it could be anyone from my parents to the doctor. I didn't really know which was worse.

The nurse, er, Sandra, shuffled over to the door, peeking through the blinds to take a quick peek at who it was. She offered me an excited smile as she pulled the door open, and in the doorway were two familiar figures.

Heidi and Clyde shuffled in, saying hi to Sandra in a casual way, leading me to assume that they were at least acquainted by now. She _did_ mention that they had come in several times before, right?

I watched, speechless, as Sandra closed the door behind them and they took a few steps in, looking everywhere except for me. I think they probably assumed I was still unconscious or something. Heidi ducked her head to unsling her messenger bag from around her shoulder, and Clyde stepped around her backside to start walking over to my bedside.

And that's where he froze.

When he finally looked up in the direction of my hospital bed, my eyes met his, and he stopped in his tracks. I felt frozen, too, not quite sure how to react. He blinked at me, and I lifted my hand to wave at him, but I was caught off guard by a gasp and a loud thump.

It was Heidi, who also saw me wake up, gasping and dropping her bag into one of the arm chairs pushed against the wall, where my parents had been sitting. Instead of being a statue, she quickly pushed past Clyde and came up to my bedside, tossing her scarf over her shoulder.

"Kevin," she breathed, standing over me, a smile spreading over her lips. "…Kevin!" she repeated happily, bouncing on the balls of her feet.

I laughed a little. "Yeah Heidi, it's me." I sat up a little, loosely folding my arms in my lap and giving her a helpless shrug. "Stuck in bed for a little longer, but at least I'm up."

She opened her mouth to say something more, but then froze for a moment, blinking at me. Then in a flash, she turned around and ran back to get Clyde, who stumbled along once he was being pulled along by the arm. Soon, they were both at my bedside, but Heidi took a tiny step back and watched Clyde and I with anxious eyes.

I eyed him for a moment, and I think we both felt like looking away. It was…weird, you know? But, I also think we both knew it was never going to work if we didn't get past this wall.

I held up my fist. "Hey Clyde," I said, smiling at him. "Long time no see."

He hesitated for a moment before feebly smiling back, raising his fist as well and bumping it to mine. "Yeah, long time no see," he agreed, both of us making explosions with our hands before he lowered his back to his side, and mine went to rest in the covers next to me. Then, his smile faltered, and suddenly he looked like he had a lump in his throat the size of a goat. He looked rather pale as he started to say, "Kevin, I'm really sorr—"

"Hey," I said briskly, shaking my head and cutting him off short. "Don't worry about it. It's okay."

For a minute, he looked like he was satisfied with that, ready to take me up on that and hope to go back to being friends. Which would've been…alright, I guess. I mean, I was still majorly upset about all this, and going back to just being friends would be kind of a challenge. Wait, I mean like, going back to being friends in general. Not like, being anything else? Argh, never mind, I set myself up for that one.

But, turns out he decided to swallow his pride, and he gave a dismissive shake of his head. "No, it's not okay. Come on, don't say that. It's a huge deal, and I wanna…make things right with you," he said, looking me directly in the eyes.

And, to be honest, I didn't expect that from him. And also to be honest, it felt like a huge weight was lifted off my chest, even though it meant confronting him and having a talk with him later about it. But still? I knew it would be a step in the right direction, and I guess I was just feeling really grateful for that.

I smiled weakly. "Alright, so do I," I admitted with a sheepish shrug. "But some other time, okay? Like, when I'm not in the hospital."

He smirked. "Okay, sounds good," he laughed, his eyes finally not looking so desolate and concerned. And my smile widened a bit, too. How could it not?

Suddenly, Heidi clasped her hands together and intervened, stepping in closer, standing next to Clyde and turning to talk to me. Right. This is just as important to her as it is to Clyde.

"Ack, I'm just so glad you're up now," she said joyfully, looking like she was having a hard time restraining herself and keeping her bouncy energy in. I could tell she wanted to just give me a huge bear hug, or at least shake my shoulders and ruffle my hair and squish my cheeks or something. But that was NOT going to happen any time soon. I guess I had to prepare myself for when I was able to leave the hospital.

I shrugged. "I'm glad I'm up, too," I said with a laugh. Although the pounding headache and dizziness really wasn't my cup of tea, it probably beat sitting in bed unconscious for another day. It could only get better from here, right? Then I leaned over a bit to pick up one of the cards on the nightstand next to me, opening it up and playing around with it a bit. "Also, waking up to all this was pretty cool. I didn't expect this much stuff. I…I didn't expect any of it, to be honest."

Heidi clicked her tongue, looking at me questioningly and shifting the weight on her feet. "Why wouldn't you expect anything?" she asked, seeming honestly confused. "By the next day, people were dying to come in here to see you."

This made me more confused than she was, because since when did I have so many concerned friends? And did that mean the whole school knew about this? "So does that mean…everyone knows?" I asked warily, glancing over the cards and presents I got, and then thinking about people who wanted to come in and visit me. A sort of intimidating thought, to be honest. It was strange to think of myself as suddenly the buzz of the school for falling into a frozen lake and getting hypothermia or whatever it was that I had.

Heidi gave a weak shrug, knowing that the real news would probably be more or less unsettling for me. "Yeah, everyone kinda knows, Kevin. You know it's a small town, news spreads so fast here." Then she looked up from the ground and eyed me with a bright smile, grabbing Clyde's arm enthusiastically. "But don't worry! You don't have any weirdo rumors going around the school as to why you fell in the lake. Clyde and I took care of that."

I looked back and forth at them both, smirking. Of course. What loyal friends they were. "Aha. So what's the story behind me falling into Stark's Pond in the middle of December?" I asked with a soft laugh, looking to both of them for an answer.

Clyde decided to opt in first, which led me to assume that he was the one who got a fake story to go around in the first place. I briefly wondered if even Heidi knew the real story of what happened…but before I could think too long on it, he was filling my mind with his own words and pushing those thoughts out. "To everyone in Middle Park High, and, uh, your parents, you were pushed back and slipped, which made you fall into the lake. Pushed by me. I've been sort of taking a bit of heat, but it's alright."

I just blinked at him, not quite sure what to say. So he practically told the truth, just leaving out why exactly he pushed me. And he was taking blame for it all? I felt my heart beat speed up a bit, my face getting warm with a pinch of panic. I would have assumed that he would've came up with something ridiculous, something that people wouldn't question, and definitely something that people couldn't blame on anyone. But no, he straight out told the truth, and he was under fire for being the one to land me in the hospital.

"Crazy story, huh?" Heidi said, her tone holding a bit of sympathy. "But Clyde's got your back. We both do."

I offered her a smile, which could be shared to Clyde too. So that obviously means that she doesn't know that Clyde's "lie" was actually the truth. So she thinks that something else happened, something else that may be more or less subtle than him So…will either of us ever tell her? She was hinting towards me that she figured Clyde had a little man crush on me or whatever, and I think she was trying to get out of me whether I felt the same way or not…

Well, all I can say is that I know Heidi is a kind of crafty girl. She probably has her suspicions.

"Ha, yeah. Pretty crazy," I agreed, still eyeing Clyde. And just wondering why on earth he would take the blame for all of this. Was he really trying to get _that big_ of a point across to me? This was something that was totally and definitely unsolvable in a hospital room. Also, my head was still foggy and I wasn't ready to be logical about things yet. Better to discuss things with him after the doctor let me leave.

Well, I think so, at least. He knew I was eyeing him, questions swimming in my eyes, and there were many answers in his. To be honest, it looks like he was holding a wall of words back, and the only thing he wanted to do was take a sledgehammer to that wall and let everything out. He probably would do it, too, right then and there, but I was giving him a look now that simply said, _don't_. And he knew what the look was. Hoho, trust me, he and the majority of the South Park young adult population knew that look, because it's how I always looked.

So, taking it as a hint, he decided to be a smart kid and change the subject. He dug into his pocket and fished out the keys to his SUV, jingling them in his fingers. "Me and Heidi have our own ride here, so we can drive around to wherever. Do you want us to like, get anything?" he offered a bit feebly, like he didn't know how to ask a fucking question.

I shrugged, looking dully at the two of them. "I don't think you guys can bring me any food. I'm probably only supposed to eat what they feed me."

"We could get a few things from your house?" Heidi suggested, raising her palm into the air and looking at me. "Movies, games, teddy bear…"

"Ha ha," I laughed sarcastically, looking at her with a grin. "Yes, I very much need my teddy bear. Especially when I have this—" I held up the light blue teddy bear that she had apparently gotten for me, "—little guy to keep me company." She just smiled, giving a small laugh, and then reaching over to fondly pet the bear's tummy.

"Well she's right, we could bring you some movies," Clyde added in. "And visiting hours don't end until nine tonight, so we could sit here with you and watch one or two." Heidi looked up from the bear at his suggestion, giving a few curt nods in agreement.

"Yeah, we could do that," she said, looking at him and then back to me.

I tossed my hands up; I was all for it. "Sure, why not? Bring over something funny, I feel like we could all use a few good laughs right now."

* * *

><p>So Clyde and Heidi came back shortly after, bringing along a few things from my house that they figured would be nice for me to have. Aside from a movie, they brought me my DS, as well as my little pack of games. My iPod and cellphone were included as well, and I couldn't thank them enough for bringing me the extra stuff. I also complimented them on how well they knew me. I mean come on, they brought me my DS.<p>

So we popped in the movie, which happened to be Napoleon Dynamite, which was a great choice because it definitely lifted all of our moods, creating a light atmosphere in general. They pulled up two small arm chairs that had been lined against the wall and placed one on either side of my bed, and we watched the movie like that. The nurse, Sandra, was feeling generous enough to leave us alone by that point, but she gave Heidi a small buzzer that was to be pressed if anything happened to me while she was out. And Clyde had snuck in a couple of bags of popcorn, so he left the room once to scope out a staff lounge of some sort, and came back in a few minutes with two hot bags of popcorn, a triumphant grin on his face. Me and Heidi shared one, since neither of us was really all that hungry, and I didn't know if I should be eating it anyway.

But of course, throughout the movie there was a lot of talking, and definitely a lot of laughing. Like I said, the mood was really light. It was a good way to end the first day of my waking up, and it was probably the first time that I had really felt genuinely happy in a while. After all that had happened recently, kicking back and watching a movie seemed like paradise. And it kind of was.

We ran our mouths until they were numb, and I think deep inside, all three of us were equally glad to be sharing a moment like this with each other. Because I know I'm not the only one who's been in turmoil throughout all this. And I felt like we were just a band of three friends, and that was it. Three happy friends.

By the end of the movie, I was nearly asleep, which Heidi and Clyde said might be because of the medications they were pumping through me. But I laughed and said it was probably just because I had such demanding friends who didn't know when to shut up. We were laughing one last time and they were pushing the chairs back, getting their things together, and preparing to leave for the night. Sandra came back in just as they were heading out the door, and seeing that I was ready to pass out from lack of energy, got me set up for the night and soon she was out of the room as well.

There were a few lazy thoughts drifting in and out of my head as I was falling asleep, and I can't remember half of them to save my life. But I do remember just having this overall feeling of content. Not really happiness, I don't think, but just…content. Things seemed to be heading back in the right direction, and it made me feel at ease. It could've been that I was just tired out of my mind, because I still had a long upcoming talk with my parents, with Heidi, and definitely with Clyde. Normally, I probably would've been stressing and fretting about it. But maybe I was just done with feeling worked up, and decided that I had enough of that to last me the rest of my life. Time to not give too much of a fuck for a while.

* * *

><p>Ah, the day had finally come. The day I could leave Hell's Pass and actually go back home and sleep in my own flawless bed. Funny how you don't realize how much you love something until it's gone. Also funny how people tend to say that about important people that they lose, rather than their bed. Oh well. You know me.<p>

So it took a while for me to actually be checked out, which annoyed the shit out of me. I had already gone a bit stir crazy from being locked up in the hospital, and waiting patiently at the reception desk for paper work to get done was just getting on my nerves. I was hopping from foot to foot, just wondering when the heck I could actually walk through the doors and get on home.

Going home meant several things, actually. On the plus side, it meant being in my room, being with my things, being with my mom's cooking. Because let me tell you, hospital food gets really old, really fast. Even a piece of toast from my mom would be a godsend. But, it also meant there would be a lot of talking to do with lots of people. I was anticipating it, but that didn't mean that I wanted to face it. The steps back to my dad's car were almost a bit reluctant, but after a little while I started kicking myself about it and told myself to suck it up. Because it would be better in the end if I got the big things out of the way.

On the way home, my parents kept trying to stir up conversation, but it just wasn't working all that well. I'm sure they each had a million questions, but I doubted they wanted to spring them all on me at once, which was totally fine with me. But I was kind of wondering, if they don't ask them now, will they ever? Because my parents are like that, and that's why I am, too. Once the spur of the moment is gone, we really don't try to look for it again.

So they didn't want to ask too many questions, and I didn't feel like answering the ones that they did manage to poke me with. It was a lose-lose situation, really.

Once we got home it was a little less quiet, but barely. Mainly my parents just told me I should rest and take it easy for the day, and if I needed anything to just ask. My mom was going to start cooking lunch, and my dad was going to go back to work after he ate. I was guessing that it was going to be a day with a pretty low buzz, and maybe I would just lounge in my room for a while. And, that's what I did. Once my parents made sure I was well situated, I went upstairs and threw myself onto my bed, breathing in deeply and just lying there for a while.

I tried not to let any thoughts in, since I had been thinking way too many thoughts in the past million years. I just laid there, breathing in the familiar smell of my bed and feeling the soft blanket warm up my cheeks. It was really nice to be back home.

I eventually slid off of my bed and shuffled nimbly around my room, wondering if I should get on the computer or put in a movie or maybe play some games. As I smelled my mom's cooking wafting up from the kitchen, I decided that maybe popping in a movie would be the thing to do, so I could just pause it and go downstairs when she called for lunch.

My fingers hovered over my Star Wars box set like it was second instinct, and I pulled it out and briefly debated which episode I should watch. It wasn't really that hard, since I liked the Original Trilogy much better. I decided that it would just have to be Return of the Jedi, since it was my favorite and all I wanted to do was indulge myself. Let's be honest here; at this point, I kind of deserved a little down time.

About half an hour into the movie, my mom called me down for lunch, and we had some top-notch fried rice that she had made. She laughed when she said that I probably shouldn't be eating such greasy food, but she knew I liked it so she made it for me. Soon after, my dad left to go back to work, and I helped my mom a bit with the dishes before heading back up to my room. There were a few points where I felt like she really wanted to say something to me or ask me something, but then decided against it. I gave her somewhat of an apologetic look as I left, but I didn't feel all that bad because I was pretty grateful that she didn't talk to me much. I just didn't want to go through all that yet.

When I went back up to my room, I saw the red alert light on my phone flashing, so I snatched it up off my desk on my way back to my bed. I flopped back down into the blankets and resumed my movie and then unlocked my phone, taking a look at the new message.

It was from Clyde. Eh. He asked if I was home, so I waited a good five minutes before replying with a yes. And also asking why. It was too soon Clyde, too soon; I didn't want to talk to people yet. It wouldn't hurt him to give me some time to actually breathe in the air of my own house for a few hours, would it?

But, he was speedy with his reply, and within a couple of minutes, I got a text from him asking if he could come over. And that's when I let out a loud groan and let my head drop into my pillow with a flustered sigh. Dammit, Clyde.

However, I guess I'm really terrible at trying to be assertive, because before I knew it, he was sending me a text saying he was going to leave the house soon. Oops, I was supposed to tell him to keep his sorry ass at home. Spending time in the hospital must've really softened me up, because I think normally, I would've been able to tell him no, fuck no, right off the bat. Oh, how things have changed.

So since I'm too lazy to do anything, I called the house phone from my cell, just so my mom would answer and I could tell her that Clyde was coming over soon. I asked her if she could send him up when he got here, and she said she would. What a nice lady. Sometimes I wonder if I'm actually related to her.

For maybe fifteen minutes, I laid in bed with lazy eyes glued to the screen, watching what used to be the movie that always had me on the edge of my seat. And now it was just…eh. Sad to say that I had no other way to describe it. And when the doorbell rang, hardly an ounce of excitement stirred inside of me, and it was only when I heard his footsteps coming up the stairs that I felt despair growing in my gut. I heaved a heavy sigh and slid off my bed, shuffling over to the door so I could be there to open it when he knocked.

I actually didn't even wait for the knock, I just opened it up to see him standing there, hand raised and ready to tap on my door. He hastily put his hand back down at his side and offered me one of his sheepish smiles and quirky shrugs.

"Hey," he said, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "Can I uh, come in?" he asked, eyes glancing past my shoulder and into my room.

I hesitated for a moment before taking a few steps back, opening up my door wide enough for him to slip in. "Mhm," was all I said as I stepped aside and watched him walk past me, into my room.

Before, when he had come over, he went to my bed or sat at my computer, or turned on the tv or something. Kind of just treated the place like it was his own, if you know what I mean. But not this time. This time, he walked into my room, stood in the middle, and waited there for me to close the door and face him.

So I did.

I gently shut the door behind me, turned around, and took a few steps closer to him, eyeing him as I crossed my arms over my chest. He knew it was time for serious talk, and damn right I knew it too. I waited patiently for him to talk first.

"…Um, can we sit down maybe?" he asked feebly, and I could see his hands squirming nervously in the pockets of his jacket.

I shrugged. "Do we need to?" I asked bluntly. '

He stared at me for a few moments, looking like he was at an utter loss for words. Then he sighed, his shoulders slumped, and he blinked at me with a defeated look.

"No, we don't have to," he said. "But I think we should. This could be a long conversation."

Now, I don't really know why, but when he said that, it made me smile. A pretty genuine smile, if I do say so myself. Maybe it's because it meant he knew that there was a long bridge to be repaired before everything could be okay again. And that he knew what he was in for, what he had on his plate, and that he was going to have to go to certain lengths to fix it. And that in its self was enough to set a good cornerstone for the bridge building.

I nodded. "Alright Clyde, I'll sit down. Hit me with your best shot."

He smiled back, albeit a little weakly, and then we both sat on the edge of my bed, turning the volume of the tv down so we could hear each other without raising our voices too loud.

Our conversation started off slow and hesitant, and there was a lot of tension in the air. I think we both caught pretty good wind of it. But gradually the tension ebbed away, and things were spilling out of our mouths faster than either of us could keep count. It was sort of like a mixture of ranting and blubbering, but it was actually some pretty deep stuff. It was at that point where things were getting a bit overdramatic, and every statement made was talked about in great depth. It was basically a huge feelings jam, and by the end of it, there were things that were said that we promised would never slip past the walls of my room.

Basically, we both apologized extensively. A lot of it was from Clyde, which was alright with me because as you know, I thought a lot of it was his fault anyway. But as he said some of the things that he did, I started feeling pretty guilty, and I decided that it was time for me to fess up, too. And I have to admit, I did feel like a huge weight was lifted off of my chest after I added my word into his ramblings.

It also made me feel a lot better to hear everything I wanted to hear. I know that sounds selfish, but I guess all I'm trying to say is that his apology lived up to—and even exceeded—my expectations. He apologized for ever getting me mixed up in something so big and so ridiculous, and for landing me in the spot I was in now. He apologized for being a horrible friend, and keeping so many thoughts and secrets from me. He even apologized for smaller, more specific things, like making me upset on several occasions, being rash at the dance, and most importantly, pushing me on the icy bank and into the water.

But then, he apologized for something that made me a little upset. He said he was sorry for _feeling_ the way he did. When he said that, I lifted an eyebrow and peered at him.

"…What?" was all I asked, not sure how else to go about clearing up my confusion. I didn't want to ask him angrily, because I didn't know if it was something to get angry at just yet.

He glanced at his knees, thinking a little bit before replying. "I dunno, my feelings are stupid. And I'm sorry they are. And I'm sorry that you had to deal with them."

It was one of the saddest things I'd probably ever heard, because really, who apologizes for their feelings? It wasn't sad in a pathetic way, but it was just sad to see how he had to feel like that about himself. And that's when the realization started sinking in. The realization that this was…just as crazy for him as it was for me. That's when I really started to feel selfish.

"Hey, look," I began with a slight shake of my head. "Don't apologize for that. You can't control what you feel, and it's not your fault."

"But that's dumb," he retorted, still trying to put himself at fault.

"Yeah, it is dumb," I agreed. "But there are some things that just don't make sense, y'know? Some things that can't be helped."

He looked down at the ground, chewing things over in his mind before talking again. It took a little while, but that was okay. It was nice to see him being patient for once, being rational about things. "So…you're not mad?"

I stared at him for a little bit, but then I just had to laugh. I laughed and slapped a hand to my forehead, and he looked up at me questioningly, maybe worried that I had gone mad or something.

"Actually, I'm really pissed. You can't get off the hook that easily," I said airily, letting out one last laugh.

"Right," he murmured, offering a shy and dumbfounded smile. "That was a stupid thing to ask."

I shrugged. "Nah, it wasn't that stupid. Because even though I'm mad, I'm trying not to be."

He lifted an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"I dunno," I began, rubbing my hands together and letting my gaze drift elsewhere. "I don't want to be mad, so I'm trying not to be. Because I know a lot of this was my fault, and also I didn't realize how tough this was for you, too. So being mad is something that I need to get over."

His smile widened just a bit and there was a flash of that familiar comical glint in his hazel eyes. "Yeah. Guess so. There's a few things I need to get over, too."

Then he let out a loud sigh and in a second had let himself fall backwards onto my bed, making it bounce a little. He closed his eyes and loosely clasped his hands over his chest, and then stretched his legs out.

"…This was a good talk," I said quietly after a minute of silence. I looked at him over my shoulder, scooting sideways just a little bit. "I'm glad you came over."

"Hm," he hummed briefly, twiddling his thumbs. "I'm glad I came over, too. I think I'm a lot different now."

He didn't offer any other explanation to that, even when I waited for a little while. I thought he was going to explain himself, or go on a rant and run his mouth like he always does. But then again, I guess he just said he was different now. Maybe he wasn't so chatty. Maybe he listened to other people a little more? Maybe he actually thought before he said things. Oh, maybe I should just ask him so I could find out for sure.

"Different?" was all I said, hoping that was enough for him to give a broad answer.

But he didn't really.

"Yeah, different. Thanks." He said it in a calm voice, his eyes closed the whole time, still with a small smile.

I looked at him for a little bit longer, and then left it at that. Maybe we could talk about it later. Or maybe I would find out as time went by. As I looked away from him, I smiled to myself. Now that I thought about it, I was a lot different too.

I think eventually we would come to a better understanding of each other.

It had definitely been a good talk.

* * *

><p><strong>EPILOGUE<strong>

I walked into school on the first day back from winter break with a spring in my step. I was in good spirits, to say the least. People passed by, people who all looked the same, and I wondered if they noticed me looking any different. I wondered, but I didn't care.

I walked down the halls, seeing all kinds of different things. Happy, excited, sad, lonely, nervous, tired, blank. All things I knew how to identify now; all things I had felt.

Winter break had been a really busy time for me. I was almost with either Clyde or Heidi, or both at the same time. We occupied ourselves with so many things that it was hard to keep track of them all, but I still remembered every last minute of it. We went Christmas shopping, for friends, family, and each other. We drove around to go to different places that were decorated for the season, and had snowball fights and made snow angels and watched snow fall. We convinced my parents to let us decorate my house, since we usually only put the few bare festive decorations each year. This time, I worked with Heidi and Clyde to put up lights outside my house, a homemade wreath on the door, and tacky little Christmas knick-knacks all around the house. We baked tons of batches of cookies, and sang loud Christmas carols as we walked down the streets in the evening. Clyde kept taking pictures of it all with his phone; a number of which were of embarrassing faces.

And on Christmas, we exchanged presents. It was hosted at Clyde's house, since it was the biggest and the nicest, and there was a fire going the whole time, while Clyde's mom made us fresh cocoa. I had gotten Heidi a set of bows for her hair, a soft scarf, and a box of expensive organic chocolates that I found at a candy shop in Denver. Clyde got her a set of really pretty earrings, a loaded giftcard to Harbucks Coffee, and wrote a letter that he quickly instructed her to read later when she was home. And, being the nice girl that she was, she put one of the bows in her hair, wrapped the scarf around her neck, tried a chocolate, and put her new earrings in right off the bat. It was a nice ensemble, I have to admit.

I wanted to open my presents last, but Heidi and Clyde both egged me on to open mine next. So I did, and they were pretty great. Heidi got me a thin sweatshirt with a stormtrooper print on the front, and it was in light blue; my favorite color. It didn't even look that geeky, much to my pleasure. There was an assortment of seasonal candies and chocolate, and she even managed to pick me up one of those chocolate oranges, the kind that you smash against the counter to break into slices. And those are like, the bomb dot com. There was also a candle in a pristine glass holder, and the tag on it read Ocean Breeze.

"A candle?" I asked as I pulled it out, examining it and holding the glass up to the light to watch it glimmer.

"Yeah," she began, shifting a bit nervously in her seat and tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. "They're just supposed to be really relaxing and stuff. I thought maybe you could light it in your room sometimes. And get rid of that nasty teenage boy smell."

I snorted, putting the candle back in the box. "I think you mean the smell of a man," I retorted, laughing a little. But then I smiled at her, because that was pretty thoughtful. I was looking forward to using it. "Thanks, Heidi."

She nodded as I neatly put her presents aside, and instead took Clyde's in my hand. It was a lot smaller than Heidi's, which got me really curious. I shook it gently, eyeing him and his eager face as I did so. But I really had no idea what could be inside.

I took in a breath and tore away the wrapping paper, then pulled apart the flaps of the box underneath. The thing on top was a black faux leather box, and Heidi looked as intrigued as I did when I pulled it out. I cautiously opened it, and when I saw what was inside, my eyes widened.

"…Whoa," I breathed, admiring what was placed inside the box. A black watch, accented with my favorite shade of blue, as well as white. I took it out from its velvet cushion and held it at my fingertips, watching the face shimmer in the light. I looked at him, kind of lost at what to say. It was a really nice watch.

"Uh, do you like it?" he asked hopefully, his eyes darting back and forth from me to the watch.

"God, yeah I do," I replied quickly, and then seeing him relax a little. "I just…don't know what to say. This is a great watch, dude. I…I like it a lot."

I grinned as I undid the metal clasp and slipped it around my wrist, then fastened the clasp again and rotated my wrist so he and Heidi could see how nicely it reflected the light. The metallic black finish just looked too cool. I've never wanted to wear a watch so badly in my life.

He gazed at the watch for a moment, then at me, and I could tell that he was happy that I liked his gift. But then, he jumped and quickly said, "There's more! Open the rest of it."

"Oh, yeah," I said, going back to focus on the box instead of the watch. There was a tin of peppermint chocolate squares, which made me smile because I told him that those were one of my favorite Christmas time foods. They weren't going to last too long. And lastly, there was a blank CD disk sitting at the bottom of the box. I pulled it out and examined it, and saw that it was labeled on the other side.

"Dumb motherfuckers," I read. I looked up at him, letting out a laugh. "What the heck is this?"

He drummed his fingers on his chin, lifting his eyebrows in amusement. "Find out for yourself, maybe?" he suggested, eyes flickering towards the DVD player under his TV.

I glanced at him, and then Heidi, who only shrugged at me with a look that said, _go for it!_ So I stood up and took the disk out of its case, popping it into his DVD player and letting him turn on the TV.

It took a few moments for something to actually show up, but when it finally did, I stood back and let out a good laugh. There was a picture of all three of us, taken at Stark's pond, with the words "dumb motherfuckers" edited onto it in a kiddish rainbow font. Then, pictures started following the title slide, and before I knew it, we had a lovely slideshow playing for us, with some choice music playing in the background. It was a collage of the many pictures that Clyde had taken with his phone on our adventures, and it was great. Some of them were of Heidi, some of me, some of two of us, and occasionally some of all three of us.

"Clyde, this rocks," I said, watching the pictures transition from one to the next, all of which were wanting to make me laugh. I turned around to see him and Heidi peering over the back of the couch, watching the slideshow and now watching me. "This—" I said, pointing to the TV with the hand that displayed my watch, "—is a fantastic present."

He ran a hand through his hair, giving me a casual shrug as I walked back over to them. "I just thought that maybe something a little sentimental would be a cool thing."

"Well, it was good thinking," I told him, teasingly giving his shoulder a push as I walked past him, back to the chair I was sitting in. We decided that letting the slideshow play while we hung out was the ideal thing to do, since it provided music as well as something to laugh about.

Now it was his turn to open presents, and Clyde got some pretty nice things. Heidi bought him two dress shirts, in soft colors that she thought would bring out his eyes. She also got him some plush socks, and a sturdy-looking wide toothed comb.

"Is this supposed to be like, some kind of message?" he asked her with a laugh once he looked through all of it. "If you think I should dress better, you could just tell me."

She smiled, giving him a shrug. "It's not a message, I just thought you might appreciate some nice clothes!" she exclaimed, laughing a little bit too. "Besides, you haven't looked through all of it yet."

Clyde raised his eyebrows and searched through the box one more time, and then I saw a grin spread across his face as he reached down to the bottom of the box and pulled out a small black card.

"Heidi, you're the best," he said with a smirk, flipping the card over and skimming the back. "Twenty bucks to Taco Bell. Flipping sweet."

"I try," she said with a grin, jokingly rolling her eyes.

Then he moved on to my present, swiftly untying the ribbon and lifting the lid off the box. I hadn't put much time into making the inside packaging look pretty, so everything was exposed once the box was open. The first thing he pulled out was a dark gray glass, filled up with liquid and labeled with a metal plaque. He held it up in front of his face to read the plaque, and then popped the top off and held the nozzle under his nose.

"Shit, this smells really good," he said in surprise, lowering it again and putting the cap back on.

"We thought so too," I agreed with a smirk, slightly admitting that it was both me and Heidi that had picked out the cologne, not just me. He glanced up at both of us, offering a brief smile as Heidi gave a quick shrug.

He started laughing as he pulled out the next thing, which was a box of buttermilk pancake mix. "No more flatcakes," he joked, flipping the box over and skimming the backside.

I nodded in agreement, also laughing. "No more flatcakes."

There was one last thing that was resting at the bottom of the box. A CD, one that he pulled out slowly and with much interest. It was Torches, the album by Foster the People that had his…favorite song on it. I had stuck a small silver ribbon on it, and he tapped it gingerly with his finger.

"You got me the CD," he murmured, flipping it over and looking over the song listing on the back. He hit is gently into the palm of his hand and looked up at me, cocking his head to the side. "Why?"

He didn't ask it in an angry or cautious voice; it was purely curiosity. But it still made me a tad nervous. Shifting in my seat, I replied, "I dunno. I guess because you really like some of the songs on there."

He smirked, and then let out a soft, good-natured laugh. "Yeah. It's a pretty good album, isn't it?" he smiled as he put it back into the box, and then slid the whole thing off of his lap and at his side. Heidi gave me a slightly devious look as he said that, and I quickly averted my eyes and pushed down the urge to tackle her to the floor. God, sometimes it's so overwhelming to have friends.

When presents were set aside, we all got up to have some cookies, and just sit around and talk and play games and watch movies. It wasn't awkward for anyone in the least; at least I didn't think so. I think in time I just stopped worrying about all that stuff, and just focusing on having fun with them.

And it had carried through like that all the way to New Year's Eve, where the three of us had went out to Denver with a bunch of other kids from our school. It was really like a huge party, except we all got food and afterwards, everyone split up. Heidi, Clyde, and I said bye to our other friends and headed out to cruise around the city and see if there was a nice place we could chill and watch the city lights. We settled with Confluence Park, and laid down in a grassy patch that overlooked the buildings, a perfect place to wait for the countdown.

It was definitely cold, so Heidi said that she wanted to go get herself a coffee from a café she had spotted a little ways away. I had given her some money to buy me something hot, too, since my ass was ready to freeze off. So, she said she would make it quick, and then she was off.

And that's when it happened.

"Hey Kevin," Clyde began casually, putting his hands behind him and stretching his legs out in the soft grass. "Do you have any new year's resolutions?"

I thought about it for a minute, looking up to the dark sky as I did. "Um, not really," I replied, turning to him and cocking my head to the side. "Why, do you?"

He tilted his head and leaned his cheek against his shoulder, gently knocking the tips of his feet together and scrunching his face up a little. "I have a couple, I guess."

"…Wanna tell me?" I asked with a shrug.

"Hmm," he hummed, chewing on his thoughts. "Well, one is to get good grades. That's probably something you've probably never had to work for, huh?"

I started laughing, mainly because he was right; and we both knew it. "Yeah, that's something that's already built into my Asian genetics. I was born with straight As."

He chuckled, saying, "Yeah, figures." Then he slid his hands to his sides and laid down in the grass, lying flat out and looking up at the sky, glancing down every now and then to see the city. I kept sitting up, drawing my knees close to my chest and letting out a sigh that condensed into fog as it escaped my mouth. Hopefully Heidi would come back with a coffee soon.

There was a minute of silence as we both sat there, him lying down and me scrunched into a loose ball while hugging my knees. The wind had died down a little, especially after the gust that was in the streets when we were walking around with other friends earlier. Now it was calmer, but oddly, it felt colder.

"So is that it?" I asked. "Good grades?"

He let out a soft sigh, furrowing his eyebrows a little and shoving his hands into his pockets. "Well no, there's other things," he murmured. He waited he waited a few minutes before letting out a quick breath and saying, "Hey dude? There's actually another resolution that I have, but I like, really need your help to accomplish it."

I cocked my head to the side, raising an eyebrow. If anything, I thought he would need my help with his grades. But, I guess there was something else he needed my help with. I was briefly thinking, what do I even have to offer? Book smart, but that isn't what he needed help with.

Um, video games?

"Yeah, what is it?" I asked, curious now to see what he needed me for. Something probably really stupid.

He turned his head to look at me, but I could barely see the features of his face in the darkness. I saw the muted white of his teeth as he opened his mouth to reply, and at first, his words went right over my head.

Then my face went red, because it was really stupid.

"Do you think you could maybe consider possibly dating me?" he asked, and I think I saw him wince a little, like he was afraid I was going to hit him and bash his head into the ground without a moment's warning.

"I-I, uh…what?" I stuttered, just as shaken as he was.

"Fuck, I knew this was a bad idea," he groaned, letting out a sigh of defeat.

"No, I'm just…surprised. Really surprised."

"For real? Come on, I thought you saw this coming. Like, has it not been obvious?"

I smiled a little and hunched forward, resting my chin on my forearm. "Nah, it's actually been super obvious. I guess I just didn't try to make a big deal out of it."

His eyebrows raised a little, and his eyes looked hard at me. I could just barely see them, reflecting the soft glow from the city across the river. So I shrugged.

"Sure, why not." I flashed him a grin.

His eyes opened wide, and he sat up a little. "Wait, what? Really?"

I laughed a little bit, peering down at him as he scrambled around to sit up.

"Yeah, really." I held out my hand so he could pull himself up, and he cautiously grasped onto my wrist and hauled himself into a sitting position. "What's the hurt in trying? Maybe it hasn't been as obvious, but for real, I thought you saw this coming. Me saying yes, I mean."

He smiled and then punched my arm, and we chilled for the rest of the night like it had never happened. Not in a way that felt like we were ignoring it, but in a way that made us feel like we could still be totally great bros no matter what happens. Like, even though he just asked me out didn't change the fact that he was still one of my best friends.

The rest of the night was sort of like a first date. I mean, we didn't like hold hands or kiss or anything like that. God no. Let's go one step at a time, people. But Heidi did come back with a coffee for me and one for herself, and I shared mine with Clyde. We all talked until the one minute countdown, when we stood up and pranced around, shouting numbers counting to zero. And when New Year hit, the three of us cheered and had a group hug. Normally, I don't take hugs. But I think that time was an exception.

So, back to present time. Walking into school, with a spring in my step. I didn't really have a certain reason to be feeling happy, but at the same time, I definitely didn't have a certain reason to be feeling sad. I had come to realize that winter break had really made a change in me, and it was surprising to look back and see all the things that happened in the time frame of a little over two weeks. Some really bad things that led up to something really great. And suddenly being at school wasn't such a burden anymore. It's not like I was suddenly a ray of sunshine, but I wasn't the gloomy kid that I had been for as long as I, and anyone else who knew me, could remember.

I made a quick stop at my locker, and on my way to class I waved at Heidi, who I saw talking with her friends down the hall. She had finally ditched Bebe and started hanging out with a crowd of nice girls who she met at the library over break. I had a chance to meet them, and right away I could tell that she was going to get along just fine with them. She waved back at me, and her friends glanced up and offered smiles. Looking good, ladies.

I slipped into class, first period, just a few seconds before the bell rang. Like usual, I was the last one to arrive, so I gently closed the door behind me. Ms. Molitor gave me a knowing smirk as she stood up from her desk, holding a stack of papers.

Oh, right. The essays. I landed myself in the hospital before I got a chance to see that thing get turned in.

I slung my backpack off my shoulder and dropped it on the ground, sliding into my seat and now looking worriedly at the stack of paper as she began handing them out. Clyde did say that he wanted to turn it in, and I guess I said I would let him…but did he actually do it? Crap, that was a huge assignment. I swear to god, if he didn't turn it in I was going to start rethinking all of this…

Ms. Molitor dropped a stack of papers on my desk, stapled together at the top corner. With a big red A scrawled across the top.

"Good job," she said in an undertone, smiling at me. "One of the best papers in all three classes."

I picked up the paper, flipping it over to look at the rubric. "Uh, thanks," I said un surprise, glancing up at her.

"You worked with Clyde, didn't you?" she asked. She tapped the A on my paper, raising an eyebrow. "You guys made a good team. We have another partner project coming up soon; maybe you should think about working with him again."

I offered her a small grin, glancing over to Clyde, who kept looking back at us apprehensively. I flipped the paper around to flash him the front, so he could see the bright red letter of success. He smiled in relief, then turned back around to fiddle with his pencil again.

"Yeah, I'll look into it," I said to her, and she nodded and was gone.

A few study dates couldn't hurt, could it? I guess I would have to remind myself to head down to the library with him the next time we had a date.

A sticky note on my computer would probably work just fine.

_This is normally where a story would have it's ending. But rest assured, this is not the end. Far from it, actually. The end is up to you, the reader, to decide. Use your imagination, your fantasies, to think of how their story ends. The rest of their story is up to you. _

_Dream it well! _


End file.
